


Awakening

by mistleto3



Series: Breathing [3]
Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Angst, CW: implied PTSD, Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Drama, M/M, Universe Alteration, cw: depression, cw: mentions of suicidal ideation, cw: panic attacks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-13
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2018-12-14 21:37:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 29,764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11791962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistleto3/pseuds/mistleto3
Summary: When another crisis looms, Mikoto has to learn to navigate a world of Kings as a regular man.AU in which Mikoto and Tatara survived the Colourless King incident, covering Missing Kings, K: Countdown, and Return of Kings timeline. Sequel toBreathing





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter can also be found on [Tumblr. ](http://mistleto-3.tumblr.com/post/164137783229/awakening-part-1)

"This is the end of the line."

A figure swathed in black stepped out of the shadows of the narrow side street to block the path of the small group of Homra members, brandishing two long, curved blades on a double-ended weapon. The goggles covering their eyes glowed an eerie neon green, and they spoke in a distorted voice from beneath the mask that covered their lips, like a villain in a horror movie.

"Hand over the girl," they demanded.

Mikoto immediately moved to position himself between Anna and the masked figure. Despite the fact he'd long since returned his powers to the Slate, the move was instinctive. Beside her, Tatara tightened his grip on her shoulder, knowing full well he could do little more to protect her than Mikoto could.

"Over my dead body," came Mikoto's brisk reply.

Rikio stepped forward, lighting his fists- he had been accompanying the small family. Since the Green clan’s activity had begun to pick up and this ninja-like figure had made their first appearance outside the bar, he'd insisted that he remain close to Mikoto, Tatara, and Anna at all times, should a situation like this one arise. Tatara was glad now that Rikio had the good sense to pressure them into accepting the help.

Rikio grit his teeth and rushed at the ninja, leaping upwards and spinning in mid-air to send a wave of his aura rippling towards them. As he lunged forward, he called out:

"Who the hell are you?!" His tone was hostile.

But the attack that looked so sure to hit its target found nothing but empty air- the figure had simply dematerialised.

And appeared again behind Rikio.

Tatara didn't even have time to cry out a warning to his friend- his breath froze in his lungs at the sight of the masked attacker raising their weapon, ready to strike at Rikio's exposed back.

"I have no reason to answer," the ninja replied, deadpan, and the electronic buzz to their voice sent an uncanny shiver down Tatara's spine. All he could do was try to cover Anna's eyes.

Suddenly, a man darted into the alleyway, too quickly to make out who he was until he came to a sudden halt between Rikio and the attacker. He had caught the ninja’s blade with his bare palm.

The Black Dog, Yatogami Kuroh.

The attacker faltered at the effortlessness of the way he interrupted the battle.

“W-what?”

A hint of panic crept into that electronic voice, and they leapt back, distancing themself from Kuroh and landing in a crouch a safe distance away.

“You’re with Jungle, the Green clan, I gather,” Kuroh said. “Well, I know that girl. If you want to continue, I’ll take over from here.” A subtle hint of threat lurked beneath his tone.

The figure stood up straight, an arc of green electricity flickering across their body as they sheathed their weapon. Then, they reached out a hand toward the wall beside them and stepped _through_ it, seeming to carve a pathway out of the brick with more of that green light.

“My business does not involve having to fight you,” they said simply, vanishing into the glowing portal that closed immediately behind them.

Kuroh watched, a frown forming between his brows as the attacker disappeared from view. “Was that the rumoured manipulation ability of the Green clan?” he said, appearing to speak more to himself than to the others present.

“Long time no see, Black Dog,” Rikio piped up, seeming to snap Kuroh back into the present. “Guess I owe you one.”

“Have we met?” Kuroh asked.

Rikio appeared slightly stung. “Aw, come on.”

At that point, Tatara piped up in defence of his friend. “He’s the high-ranking Red clansman Kamamoto Rikio. As I understand it, you met on Ashinaka last year. You went with him and Yatagarasu to go and search for me whilst everyone was evacuating.” Tatara managed to maintain his chipper demeanour as he spoke, but there was a slight falter in his smile- the attempt to kidnap Anna had clearly shaken him somewhat. But he was doing better than Mikoto, at least, who was stony-faced and silent, bristling with fury that was almost tangible in the air. The pair of them both had a protective hand on Anna’s shoulders.

“Kamamoto… Rikio?” Kuroh narrowed his eyes in confusion.

“Can’t say I blame you for not recognising me right away… I haven’t had much of an appetite since everything that happened last year. Summer’s over, but I’m still skin and bones.”  

A small frown creased between Anna’s brows at his words, and she turned towards him. “Rikio…”

“Hey, but don’t you worry, Anna. I may be thin, but I still pack lots of power,” he said confidently.

“Why is the Green clan after you?” Kuroh interrupted, glancing between the group of Reds.

“It’s a mystery to us…” Tatara admitted.  “That ninja showed up at the bar one day, saying they had a request for Anna.”

As Tatara spoke, Neko caught up with her friend, and she waved at the Red clansmen over Kuroh’s shoulder.

“Request?” Kuroh raised an eyebrow.

“They asked for Anna to use her sensory powers…” Tatara began, but Anna interrupted him:

“To ‘find the Silver King’.”

“Huh?” Neko straightened up at the mention of their King.

“What?” Kuroh demanded. “You can do that?”

“You can find Shiro?!” Neko cried.

Anna paused, then shook her head solemnly. “I can’t right now…”

The faces of the two Silver clansmen fell. “Is that so…” Kuroh said quietly.

“Anna’s powers have been… a little fickle for a while now…” Tatara explained. “Our clan hasn’t been in the best shape since everything that happened last year.”

“She can’t locate people right now,” Rikio said.

Kuroh stepped forward. “But you were asked to find him. Does that mean he’s alive?”

“I don’t know,” Anna admitted.

“Why… is the Green clan looking for Shiro?” Kuroh’s gaze dropped, and he once more appeared to be thinking aloud rather than talking to anyone in particular.

“So… what now?” Rikio asked.

“Can’t you join up with the rest of your clan?” Kuroh said.

“Homra is as good as disbanded right now.” Rikio explained.

“We’re pretty much all that’s left…” Tatara rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “Since King abdicated, the others have mostly drifted away, and there isn’t much we can do to protect Anna by ourselves. Not when the only one with any meaningful amount of power is Kamamoto. Even Kusanagi-san is out of the country.”

“Homra’s strategist?” Kuroh asked.

“I can’t divulge the details, but I’m the only fighter left for the time being,” Rikio said.

“What about that take-charge clansman? Isn’t he always at the vanguard?”

Rikio’s expression sank at the mention of his friend. “Well… Yata-san is…”

“…dealing with some personal problems right now,” Tatara finished for him.

It seemed the melancholy in the Red clansmen's voice as they spoke of Misaki didn't go unnoticed, and Kuroh merely nodded respectfully and dropped the subject.

It wasn't as though Misaki's emotional strain hadn't been evident on Ashinaka Island the better part of a year ago, but he'd been in damage control mode then, trying to deal as best he could with the trauma of nearly having to watch one of his best friends die in his arms whilst coping with everything going on around him. Since then, the dust had settled and the adrenaline had subsided. Once it became clear that nobody else was in any immediate danger, he'd had time to process what had happened, and the reality of everything that had taken place had begun to sink in. It had clearly shaken Misaki to his core. The repercussions had manifested slowly- at first, he'd simply been a little more snippy, a little more protective of Tatara. And then his mood had started to drop, the fire in him started to fizzle out. He showed up at the bar less and less, and when he did, it was often with greasy hair and bags under his eyes. Tatara had spotted the symptoms of depression from a mile away, but Misaki had pushed back hard when Tatara suggested maybe he should speak to somebody about it. Not that Tatara had expected any different- going to a professional would have been showing weakness in Misaki’s eyes.

And then the rest of Homra had begun to drift, and Misaki's mental illness had begun to manifest in earnest. It was written all over his face: he hated himself for not being strong enough to drag himself into the bar every day, hated himself for barely being able to get out of bed when Mikoto and Tatara had been through worse but were still doing better than he was. And then there were all these other clansmen who were perfectly capable of showing their faces, but they chose not to. He resented them for it, and it was eating away at him. All of that, combined with the aftershocks of the trauma that Tatara's brush with death had left behind in him... Tatara almost didn't recognise him anymore. No matter what he or Mikoto or Rikio or anyone else in Homra had tried, they couldn't get him out of his spiral. There had even been times they'd considered contacting Saruhiko, but they knew Misaki would never forgive them for informing his enemy of his perceived weakness.

Before Izumo had left for Germany, he'd said that, as much as they might have wanted to, there was nothing they could do to help someone who didn't want to be helped, and that they needed to give him time. It was only then that Tatara had finally, reluctantly, accepted defeat. But he still dropped by Misaki's apartment every now and again with care packages of food and toiletries, just in case.

There was a moment of quiet as the mention of Misaki made the members of the Red clan collectively wince, and then Neko piped up: "Kurosuke! We can't leave them by themselves in case the ninja comes back! Anna is Neko's friend, and Totsuka is Shiro's friend. Shiro would want us to help them!"

Kuroh looked at her for a moment, then nodded. "We have a room at the high school that we use as our home base. It will be easier to protect; we can shelter you there until the threat has passed."

"Thank you," Tatara said. "We appreciate your help."

The mismatched group set off together, with Neko leading the way. Mikoto trailed a short distance behind, his hand protectively on Anna's shoulder; he still hadn't said a word since the attacker had disappeared. Rikio followed close behind his old King, keeping up a wary vigilance in case they were attacked a second time, and Tatara and Kuroh brought up the rear.

"I haven't seen you since that day on Ashinaka last winter," Tatara said to him quietly. "How have you been?"

"We haven't found Shiro yet. We don't even know if he's alive," Kuroh said, by way of an answer.

"You've been searching for him all this time?"

Kuroh nodded. "…What did he say to you, before he disappeared?"

"It was hardly a suicide note, if that's what you're worried about."

"But what did he say, exactly?"

"That he felt despite having clansmen who followed them, each of the Kings is walking a solitary path. But I told him that wasn't true; if it wasn't for the Slate, there would be dozens of lonely people who never found the family that they found in Homra, and I never would have met the love of my life."

Kuroh nodded slowly.

"He wasn't talking like someone walking down death row; he told me about how much you and Neko mean to him."

"He did?"

"He said you're the best friends he's had in a long time. I don't think he would stay away unless he had a good reason to, but something tells me that good reason isn't that he's dead."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Sometimes you just get a feeling about some things," Tatara said lightly.

Kuroh seemed to ponder what he'd said for a moment, then changed the subject awkwardly. "So it's true, about you and your King...?"

"Practically married? Yeah, it is." A sly smile twisted on Tatara's lips. "Why do you ask?"

Kuroh was stoically silent for a moment.

"You have feelings for Shiro, don't you?" As Kuroh opened his mouth to protest, Tatara cut in playfully, trying to lighten the mood. "Don't try to deny it~. You talk about him the way I talk about King."

"...I barely knew him for two weeks," Kuroh protested weakly.

"Like I said, sometimes you just get a feeling about some things. I had that feeling about King, that he would be someone special. I wish it hadn't taken so long to figure out just how special, though."

Kuroh nodded slowly, then fell silent as the group climbed the stairs into the light rail station, seeming to chew over what Tatara had said. After a moment, cleared his throat and spoke up once more, addressing the whole of the small group of Red clansmen: "It'll be helpful too, if you can fill in the details for us. The audacity of the Green clan to enter another clan's territory is worrisome." The abruptness of the way he changed the subject made Tatara smile.

"I'm sorry," Anna said suddenly, and Kuroh paused to look at her.

"For what?"

"About your king... I know it wasn’t him who tried to kill Tatara."

Kuroh nodded solemnly. “You said your powers were unstable; is nearly losing the Red King the cause?”

“No… this is different.” She drew her hands up to her chest, and as she lifted her head, the shadow of her hood receded, revealing deep worry carved across her expression. She paused, suddenly seeming to be trembling, and there was a moment of quiet as the older clansmen regarded her, concerned by her sudden change in demeanour.

The quiet was broken as a crackle of green light arced across the roof of the building, and the television screens it leapt through flickered and went blank in a shower of sparks. Mikoto instinctively made a grab for Anna, drawing her close against his body, and with his other hand he grasped Tatara’s wrist tightly. Kuroh and Rikio tensed. A shutter near the exit began to lower as the clansmen looked around for their assailant, instinctively moving to surround Mikoto, Tatara, and Anna as best they could, in the hope they’d be able to protect them. It was only then they seemed to realise the station was empty except for themselves.

“I’m feeling all tingly; something is coming!” Neko cried.

Footsteps, eerily loud, rang through the cavern of the building, accompanied by more of the green lightning, and then a sing-song voice announced: “As one travels on, a reunion awaits them, right for the moment.”

Kuroh tensed, seemingly in recognition, and he reached for the hilt of his sword. “That haiku… is by Master Ichigen… It can’t be!”

Neko hissed as the figure of the speaker drew closer, then stopped. A tall young man with long, indigo hair and delicate, feminine features, dressed in dark clothing. He had a blade not unlike Kuroh’s strapped to his back, and an almost serene smile on his face.  

“I wonder why his poems are so touching…” he said. “Hi, Kuroh. It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Have you been well?”

“Mishakuji Yukari…”

At the resentment in Kuroh’s voice, Tatara laced his fingers with Mikoto’s and tightened his grip anxiously.

“Hey, who is that?” Rikio asked, his voice low. Tatara was impressed at how much of his evident fear he managed to keep out of his tone.

“Mishakuji Yukari. Former clansman of the late Seventh King, Master Ichigen Miwa, and student in swordsmanship. I once addressed him as my senior,” Kuroh explained tersely.

“S-senior?” Rikio said tentatively, taking a step closer to his friends.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Kuroh demanded, addressing the newcomer.

“Oh, wipe that scary look off your face. Aren’t you happy to see me?” Yukari’s voice was playful.

“You?! Someone who pointed his blade at Master Ichigen?! Stop messing around!” Kuroh’s words grew to a shout as he spoke, and he tightened his grip on his sword, lowering his stance.

Yukari giggled. “Oh, that was just a test of our spirit. That’s the strong bond that he and I shared. You still don’t understand that?”

“Liar!”

“When I learned of his death, I cried for the first time in a long while. I still carry those feelings with me. But now you show up to get in my way…”

“Answer me, are you with the Green clan?!” Kuroh demanded.

Yukari drew his blade, the metal engulfed in arcs of green static. “Yes. That’s why I’m taking that girl,” he announced, nodding towards Anna.

Tatara felt Mikoto stiffen beside him. His jaw clenched as he ground his teeth, and it was written across his face that he wanted nothing more than to see the stranger who threatened his daughter burned to ash. His frustration at being able to do nothing was palpable.

“So Shiro…. Adolf K. Weismann is alive?” Kuroh pressed, drawing his blade, but his hands were shaking.

“I dunno. That’s what we want to find out: if our biggest threat to the Green clan is dead or alive,” Yukari said simply, then darted across the room towards his old comrade. Neko barely had time to cry out a warning before their swords clashed.

“I was quite pleased when I learned that we’ve become foes. See, I was determined to overcome our tragic destiny.” He said the words with a quality of almost irony in his voice. “But you, Kuroh…”

“Get away from here!” Kuroh cried over his shoulder towards the others.

Tatara didn’t need telling twice, and the four Red clansmen turned and hurried for the exit, with Mikoto clinging onto Anna’s hand.

Yukari merely watched them leave, making no attempt to stop them. “What’s with this sword?” he asked casually, then took a swing at Kuroh.

Kuroh parried the attack, but it knocked him sliding back across the tile floor. He grunted, then charged forward again, swiping repeatedly at his opponent, but none of his attacks connected.

“And here I was looking forward to sparring with you! This isn’t even fun!” Yukari commiserated as he danced out of the way of the onslaught.

“There’s nothing to learn from you at this point!” Kuroh snarled.

The two Colourless clansmen appeared to have forgotten about the escaping Reds, who were still running for the exit as Rikio prepared to blast through the shutters. They were nearly at the doors when an eerie green glow suddenly emitted from one of the pillars in front of them, and from the light emerged the ninja who had attacked them earlier that day. The group skidded to a halt, and Rikio spun around to urge them in the opposite direction, but as his back was turned to the Green ninja, they struck out at him, carving a deep gash down between his shoulders. He grunted in pain.

“Rikio!” Anna and Tatara cried out in unison as he toppled to the ground.

Tatara instinctively rushed to help his friend, but received a swift kick to the ribs for his efforts, knocking him sliding across the tile floor. He gasped for breath, winded by the shooting pain.

Mikoto squared up to the Green clansman, his hands curling into fists. There was a dark fury in his eyes that, a year ago, would have been the last thing their attacker would have seen. But his powers were gone, and all he could do was dodge to avoid the swing of their blade. He struck out with his fist, but the attack only found empty air, and then the hilt of their weapon caught him on the temple and he stumbled, dazed. But he never let go of Anna’s hand.

“Mikoto!” she cried.

The attacker spun Mikoto around to secure his wrists with a cable tie, but as they attempted to do so, he headbutted them in the stomach, and they spluttered briefly, but only hesitated for a fraction of a second before kicking Mikoto in the back of the knees, knocking him to the floor and finally forcing him to release his grasp on Anna. Then, they grabbed her, lifting the girl to lay her over their shoulder as she struggled.

With a snarl, Mikoto swiped at the ninja’s legs with his foot, almost loosening their grip enough for Anna to slip free.

“I’m taking Kushina Anna,” they announced, and their distorted voice made Tatara’s blood feel as though it had turned to ice in his veins. “And if I must take Suoh Mikoto as well, then so be it.” There was a sickening crack as the ninja kicked Mikoto in the side of the head to subdue him. He slumped against the tile flooring, only semi-conscious as the attacker grabbed him by his bindings.

“S-stop!” Rikio protested weakly, but the back of his jacket was soaked with blood, and he could do nothing more than reach meekly towards the kidnapper.

Tatara couldn’t even speak through the floods of tears. He could only watch in wide-eyed horror.

Kuroh was still locked in a heated battle with his old comrade, apparently at a disadvantage, and he barely even seemed cognisant of what was going on behind him. It was only when Yukari paused to look past him at where the masked assailant stood that Kuroh even seemed to notice Yukari wasn’t the only enemy present.

“Oh? Mission accomplished already?” Yukari remarked, then turned back to Kuroh. “And that means this lesson is over. Too bad.”

He danced past his opponent to join the other green clansman, and the ninja stepped to the side, back into the portal they had emerged from, carrying Anna over their shoulder and dragging Mikoto along behind them.

“King!” Tatara cried out in panic, and as he did so, Neko called:

“Anna!” and hurried towards the Greens, but Yukari swung his blade, sending out a bolt of electricity that cut across the ground in front of her, stopping her in her tracks.

“We’ll meet again, Kuroh. Next time, though, be more mentally prepared.”

With that, the two Green clansmen and their captives disappeared back into the portal. The green light swallowed them up and closed behind them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter can also be found on [Tumblr.](http://mistleto-3.tumblr.com/post/164988332619/awakening-part-2)

A hiss of pain from behind them recaptured Kuroh and Neko’s attention, and they hurried over to where Rikio lay on the floor, blood seeping into the fabric of his jacket. Tatara dragged himself across the ground towards him, his breath coming in sharp gasps- he was still winded from the impact.

“Are you alright?!” Kuroh demanded, glancing between the two Red clansmen as Neko helped Tatara over to where Kuroh knelt.

“N-never mind me… Save Anna and Mikoto-san…” Rikio said, his voice thin with pain. “Go after them!” He gripped Kuroh’s jacket emphatically as he spoke.

Tatara merely nodded in agreement. His face was blank, and all the colour had drained from his cheeks.

“All right. Leave it to me,” Kuroh replied. “Neko, can you track them?”

“Pretty much… This way!” she said, pointing out of the station. With that, the pair hurried off, leaving the Reds behind.

It took a minute before Tatara caught his breath, and his ribs protested sharply every time he inhaled, but he was more concerned about the wound on his friend’s back than about his own injuries. As soon as he could stand, he helped Rikio to his feet and slung his friend’s arm around his own shoulders to keep him upright, and without a word, they made their way back to Bar Homra.

Rikio was beginning to weaken by the time they finally arrived, and he was staggering as the pair crossed the threshold.

“Y-Yata-san… Big trouble…” he hissed as Tatara helped him to a seat.

Misaki didn’t look up- he was lying on the couch, staring at the ceiling. His voice was sluggish as he said: “Not so loud… You know how Kusanagi-san always nags about keeping it quiet in the bar. And where is this Kusanagi-san, you ask? He deserted his precious bar and went off somewhere…”

It was only when Rikio didn’t reply that he looked up. “Huh?” At the sight of his friend slumped over a table as Tatara, who was still white as a sheet, cut off his shirt and jacket to clean his wound, Misaki finally seemed to realise the gravity of the situation. “H-hey, what happened?”

“Snap out of it, will you, Yata-san? There’s trouble! It’s Anna and Mikoto-san…! They were kidnapped by some Green thug. We were walking through the light rail station when we were attacked. I couldn’t fight them off; they were too strong.”

“So? Where’d this pansy take Anna and Mikoto-san?” Misaki had gotten to his feet as Rikio spoke, pacing the room before collapsing onto a bar stool.

“The Black Dog went after them, but we haven’t heard back yet.”

Misaki hissed in frustration, tapping his knuckles against the bar.

“Totsuka-san. Munakata-san and the Blues, could they help?”

Tatara gave a stiff nod and reached for his phone, but when he dialled the number, there was no answer. He set his phone on the table without a word and continued dressing Rikio’s wound.

There was a brief pause before Rikio spoke again. “Yata-san… What about Fushimi…? Maybe Fushimi would know something. He has access to the Blues’ information network.”

Misaki clicked his tongue as he got to his feet and stormed from the room, then silence fell once more. Rikio looked up at Tatara, his brow creasing in concern- he hadn’t spoken a word since Mikoto and Anna had vanished.

“Totsuka-san… We’re doing everything we can. We’ll get them back; it’ll be okay.”

As Tatara set down the first aid kit he’d been using to dress the wound, Rikio noticed his hands were shaking.

“Totsuka-san…?”

“…They only need Anna.” His voice was quiet.

“What do you mean?”

“They want Anna to find the Silver King. They don’t need King…” There was a dark look in his eyes as he spoke, and Rikio realised with a wave of nausea that he meant: _They don’t need Mikoto alive._

“What if they…” Tatara’s voice wavered and snapped, and a sob bubbled past his lips.

Rikio had never seen him like this before; Tatara was usually so bright, so optimistic, even after everything that happened last year. Seeing him this way was… disconcerting. He wrapped his arms around his friend and let him cry into his shoulder, rubbing his back comfortingly, but a cold sense of dread had begun to congeal in his gut at the fear that Tatara might have been right- what would the Greens do to Mikoto if they didn’t need him? What would they do to Anna once they’d gotten what they wanted from her?

* * *

 

“Is this Saruhiko?” Misaki wasn’t quite sure why he’d felt the need to get so far from the bar before he could finally swallow his pride for long enough to dial his friend’s old number. He’d deleted it from his contact list, but he still remembered it by heart. He’d just had to hope Saruhiko hadn’t changed his number since he left Homra, and surely enough, the phone rang. But when Saruhiko answered, the sound of his voice had still sent a stab of anxiety through Misaki’s gut. He wasn’t entirely sure why.

“At least identify yourself. You’re not on my caller ID list. Do I know you?” he drawled, and the nervousness boiling in Misaki’s gut quickly turned to rage.

“You damn monkey… Are you trying to start a fight with me?”

“Fight? Fighting you right now wouldn’t be any fun. Taking on someone who’s not under a Sanctum’s protection would be bullying.”

“Mikoto-san’s power is still inside me! I’ll fight you anytime!”

“No thanks. But if you insist on fighting me, then I suggest you change clans.”

Misaki clicked his tongue. “I’m not like you! Homra is the only clan for me!”

“Yeah, and it’s as good as dead! That’s what you get when you rely on things like friends.”

Misaki took a deep breath to steady himself and bite back the tide of profanity he wanted to spew at his old friend. “Listen to me, Saruhiko. Anna and Mikoto-san have been kidnapped. According to Kamamoto, a guy from the Green clan named Mishakuji is behind it, but we don’t know where they took them. Do you guys have any information? If you know anything… Please. Tell me.”

Saruhiko clicked his tongue. “I’m not your informant.”

“You think I like having to ask you?! It makes me wanna throw up! But Kusanagi-san and almost everyone else is gone. Kamamoto is injured, and Totsuka-san is a wreck. I can’t think of anyone else to turn to… You’re the only one that’s left. I know you had your beef with Mikoto-san, but you don’t have anything against Totsuka-san and Anna, do you?!”

Saruhiko didn’t respond for a moment, but just as Misaki was about to press him for a response, the line went dead. Misaki’s chest deflated, and his hands balled into fists. Anger and disappointment and hopelessness rose like bile in the back of his throat and stung his eyes. He wiped the tears hurriedly on the back of his sleeves, then got to his feet and stormed back to the bar. Now he knew why it was he’d wanted to get so far away before he made the call: so he had plenty of time to compose himself when Saruhiko inevitably let him down again.

By the time he’d made it back, his seething anger had fizzled down into simmering disappointment, and all he wanted was to make someone pay for what they’d done to Mikoto and Anna. No matter what happened, Mikoto was still his King, and a nauseating guilt was building in the back of his throat that, maybe if he’d been with Rikio protecting them instead of moping in the bar, they might have been able to hold their own against the attackers and stop this from even happening in the first place. But he hadn’t, and now he wanted to put something heavy through the skull of whoever had his friends.

When he arrived back to the bar, he headed straight upstairs to search for something to use as a weapon, and Rikio limped up after him.

“You spoke to Fushimi?”

“Tch.”

“…He said no?”

“Shit!” the cry burst from Misaki without him ever having intended to say it. “I was stupid to even think he’d have a heart!”

“W-what’ll we do, Yata-san? Totsuka-san is a wreck right now…”

Misaki pulled out an old broom and weighed it in his hands, but as he did, the ringtone issued from the watch on his wrist, and Saruhiko’s image appeared on the clock face.

“Huh? Saruhiko…”

His brow furrowed, and he opened the message to find a satellite image of Shizume city, with a location marked on it- Mikoto and Anna were being kept at Mihashira Tower, and Saruhiko had come through for him.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter can also be found on [Tumblr.](http://mistleto-3.tumblr.com/post/165237103774/awakening-part-3)

“I’ve identified the one from Jungle who attacked Mihashira Tower- Mishakuji Yukari, a former vassal of the previous Colourless King, Miwa Ichigen,” Saruhiko explained.

“Colourless and Green…” Reisi mused, inspecting a puzzle piece between his fingers. “Someone like you, who uses two colours? I’m impressed that you learned so much in such a short time.”

“I was asked to assist on another matter. I was doing research on it and by chance, there was a connection. Jungle is a unique clan that has wide presence on the internet. Through downloadable apps, they have access to unspecified numbers of clansmen.” Saruhiko walked over to the desk, showing Reisi the screen of the tablet he had been working on. “Please take a look at this.”

A video played: grainy CCTV footage of a masked figure dressed in black, passing through a portal of green light that emanated from a wall. The figure was carrying a girl in a red dress over their shoulder, and dragging the semi-conscious body of a man in a dark jacket, who had his hood up.  

“Higher-ranking clansmen possess the Green Clan’s manipulation ability. They can alter the laws of physics, and have far greater strength than the average man. In particular, this masked clansman…”

Reisi interrupted him with a smug chuckle. “Hmm, they’re a ninja. Very interesting.”

“…This masked clansman uses the manipulation ability, and as you can see, they can pass through walls. As a result, the security at Mihashira Tower is meaningless.”

Reisi chuckled again. “This is just like a ninja passing through walls.”

Saruhiko adjusted his glasses. “This masked-…”

“This _ninja,_ ” Reisi cut in.

Saruhiko cleared his throat. “This _masked clansman_ is probably, like Mishakuji, highly skilled.”

“No, this is ninjutsu,” Reisi said emphatically.

“In any case, this is the real problem,” he said zooming in on the figure over the Green clansman’s shoulder. “The girl is the Red clansman, Kushina Anna, and the man is former Red King, Suoh Mikoto.”

Reisi’s face fell, and his expression became grave.

“The reason behind their kidnapping is not clear, but it can’t be for any good purpose.”

“I see…” Reisi reached for his phone, and took a brief look at the missed call notification from Totsuka Tatara, then turned the screen off and set it back on his desk. “I now have an idea of the enemy’s intention. It seems we have no choice but to act. What about coordination with the other agencies?”

“Completed, sir.”

“Good. Well then, it’s time you get going. By the way, who was it that asked for your assistance?”

“…Am I obliged to tell you, sir?”

“Not at all. I trust your work. Please inform Awashima-kun and the rest of the Special Task Force of this information. I have a phone call to make.”

“Yes, sir,” Saruhiko said, then turned on his heel and left the room.

Reisi sighed deeply as soon as the door was closed, then picked up his phone and dialled Tatara’s number.

“Munakata…” Tatara’s voice was hoarse, as though he’d been crying.

“Totsuka-san. I apologise for not contacting you sooner. As it happens, I have just been made aware of your predicament.”

“You know about King and Anna…?”

“Yes. I was just informed by Fushimi-kun that they have been filmed by CCTV within Mihashira Tower, held captive by a ninja-… a high-ranking Green clansman. Though I believe your clan already has this information- Fushimi-kun told me he discovered this whilst being asked to assist on another matter. I presume the one who asked for his assistance was your Yatagarasu?”

“Yes… He’s on his way there now.”

“Surely he and Kamamoto cannot hope to perform a raid alone?”

“Kamamoto was injured in the initial kidnapping. But no, Yata isn’t by himself; the Silver Clan are helping us- the Black Dog and that cat strain. There seems to be some personal conflict between the Black Dog and the Green clansman Mishakuji Yukari.”

“I see. The Blue Clan are also willing to offer you our assistance- the kidnap is a clear violation, and as such, Sceptre 4 is at liberty to take action. As we speak, my clansmen are on their way to Mihashira Tower to reinforce the perimeter, and I can offer additional fighters to assist with the raid itself.”

“That’s okay, Yata-chan wouldn’t fight alongside Blues, no offense. But a perimeter in case they try to disappear again like last time would be appreciated…”

“Understood. We will do our utmost to ensure Suoh and miss Kushina are returned to you safely. I will remain on hand at the scene in case the assistance of a King is required.”

“Am I the only one getting déjà vu? Asking you to make sure he doesn’t die.” The humour in Tatara’s voice was weak.

“There is no need for any talk of anyone dying, understood?”

“Okay…”

“By the way, I have reason to believe that your strategist may have returned to the country.”

“Kusanagi-san is back in Japan? How do you know?”

“I overheard Awashima-kun on the phone to him earlier, speaking about his trip to Germany in the past tense. It may be worth giving him a call.”

“Okay. Thank you for your help.”

“Take care of yourself, and try not to worry,” Reisi told him, then hung up the phone.

Tatara let out a deep sigh as the line went dead and slumped back in his seat. He’d been holding back tears the entire conversation, though to be honest, he’d been holding back tears since he’d first broken down against Rikio’s shoulder earlier that day. But he didn’t have time to break down again right now.

He thought he’d recovered from the stress of last year, but now that Mikoto was missing, the fault lines were opening up again, and through the cracks, flashbacks to the way he’d felt when he wasn’t sure he’d ever see Mikoto alive again were shoving their way into the forefront of his mind. It made him want to throw up. He hated having to worry about Mikoto, hated the thought that Mikoto probably felt as helpless as he did. And more than anything, he hated that this was sort of his fault. If he hadn’t gotten shot, Mikoto wouldn’t have had to abdicate, and then maybe he could have defended himself…

He shook the thoughts from his head, knowing they weren’t helping him, then looked up, noticing Rikio was looking at him in concern. The two of them had stayed behind at the bar after Misaki had rushed off, knowing they’d be more hindrance than help.

“Are you okay?” Rikio asked.

Tatara nodded stiffly.

“Did Munakata say Kusanagi-san is back in Japan?”

“Yes. I’m going to call him now.”

Tatara drummed his fingertips against the table as the phone rang, and when Izumo answered, the familiar sound of his voice sent a wave of relief through him. He didn’t think he’d ever needed his friend more.

“Hello?”

“Kusanagi-san… You’re back in Japan?”

“Yeah, I figured I’d got as much info as I was gonna get, and I heard about the attack on Mihashira Tower, so I got the first flight back. I was tryin’a ring Mikoto, but he ain’t answering, as usual. I dunno what I expected. I was just about ta call ya; I’m in a cab from the airport right now.”

“Kusanagi-san…” Tatara’s voice wavered as he spoke.

“…Is everythin’ alright?”

“King and Anna… Some Green clansmen ambushed us… They took them…”

“They were kidnapped?”

 “They’re being held at Mihashira Tower right now. Yata-chan and the Silver clansmen are on their way to try and rescue them.”

“The Silver clansmen?”

“The Black Dog and the cat strain. They were with us when we were ambushed, and they wanted to help.”

“Do Sceptre 4 know?”

“They’re tightening the perimeter around the building.”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can. You holding up alright?”

“Would you believe me if I said yes?”

“Is someone there with you?”

“Kamamoto. He was injured in the initial attack, but it’s nothing life-threatening.”

“Were you with them? Were you hurt?”

“I got kicked in the chest. Maybe I cracked a rib, but I’m fine.”

Izumo sighed. “I’m about ten minutes out. Hang in there.”

“Please hurry.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the long delay! I should be able to start updating more regularly soon!
> 
> This chapter can also be found on [Tumblr.](http://mistleto-3.tumblr.com/post/166335262874/awakening-part-4)

There was a cruel irony in being imprisoned within the chamber of the Slates; less than a year ago, it had been where Mikoto had come to free himself of the burden of being a King, and now, all he could think about was that maybe if he’d been stronger, or less stubborn, maybe if he’d listened to Reisi’s warnings about his Weismann level, all of this never would have happened. Anna kept her face smooth and unreadable, but Mikoto could see the fear in the slight hunch in her shoulders, the subtle way her hands trembled. She knelt within the giant gilded bird cage she was locked in, staring at her marbles in a circle on the glass floor, but they never so much as twitched. Mikoto couldn’t even go to her; his hands were shackled behind his back and chained to the wall behind him, so he was forced to kneel at the edge of the room, watching as the Yukari made his requests to Anna in a saccharine voice edged with a subtle threat. To be kept from her by such meagre restraints, metal he could have melted through without a second thought a year ago, was humiliating. He didn’t know what he wanted more: to hold his little girl, or to melt the flesh of the people who were making her hands shake like that. She kept up a strong front, but the quiet worry of what they might do to her if she couldn’t deliver made Mikoto nauseous; people had done awful things to her before to bend her power to their will, paying no mind to the fact she was just a child. The Greens were dark horses, and Mikoto didn’t know what they were capable of or where they drew their line in the sand, and if that line was before or after torturing a little girl. But he knew he couldn’t sit here and watch them hurt Anna, if it came to that, but would he have a choice? The reality that there may just be nothing he could do was withering.

So when the doors of the chamber slid open to reveal Misaki, accompanied by the Black Dog, he felt a stab of relief.

“Anna! Mikoto-san!” Misaki pushed off against the glass floor, rolling forward on his skateboard towards Anna and her captors. “You bastards! What are you doing to Anna?!” he spat.

“Oh, what an energetic boy. We’re not doing a thing, just asking the cute little bird for a small favour,” Yukari replied smoothly.

A parrot with brightly coloured green plumage perched atop the cage, and it echoed Yukari’s words: “Cute little bird!”

“What?!” Misaki shouted, then leapt forward with gritted teeth, his aura swarming around him as he plunged towards Yukari, who stepped out of the way of his attack.

“I’ll leave the hot-headed one to you,” he said, nodding to the other Green clansman in the room - the masked “ninja” in dark clothing from before.

“Understood,” the clansman said, disappearing into the ground in a flash of green light, then reappearing in Misaki’s path to grab him by the shirt and slam him into the floor, which both of them vanished through as another green portal opened to swallow them up.

Mikoto’s heart sank.

“Kotosaka, you watch below, okay?” Yukari said, keeping his eyes on Kuroh.

“Understood! Understood!” the bird squawked, taking off from its perch and flying off.

“And I will put my dear Kuroh through a beautiful initiation.”

“Enough of your rambling, Mishakuji Yukari!”

“First, I’ll teach you some manners, Kuroh-chan. Call me ‘Onii-sama!’” he declared, then rushed at his old comrade.  Their swords clashed, Yukari’s still sheathed as they spun around one another. As they exchanged blows, Yukari backed Kuroh further and further towards the edge of the room. In what seemed to be a last-ditch effort, Kuroh lunged at Yukari, only to have his attack side-stepped, and he smashed straight through the window and disappeared out into the air. A huge hand, formed of his translucent aura, flung upwards to catch onto the broken glass before he could fall to his death. With a giggle, Yukari leapt out of the window after him, and Mikoto and Anna were left alone in the chamber.

But only briefly; after a moment, Misaki once more came crashing through the doors, this time landing on his back and sliding across the glass.

“Misaki…” Anna’s voice was heavy with concern, and she leaned forward to clutch the bars of her cage.

“Don’t worry, I’m just upping the odds in their favour,” Misaki reassured her as he got to his feet.

Behind him, the masked figure rose up through the floor, blade in hand. “Then I’ll take those odds and send you to hell.”

“Misaki!” Anna warned.

But before they could strike, streams of fire streaked across the room like fireworks towards them, and the masked figure leapt backwards out of their path. “Who’s there?!” they cried, raising their blade defensively.

Kotosaka’s shrill cry announced the newcomer. “Another enemy! Another enemy! The enemy from Homra!” Another barrage of flames chased the bird across the room.

In the doorway, Izumo leaned casually against the wall, spinning his lighter in his hand, and Tatara and Neko followed behind him.

“Kusanagi-san…?” Misaki said.

“Hey, it’s been a while.” As he spoke, he pulled a cigarette from his pocket, then raised his lighter to the tip. Once it was ignited, the smoke swirled around him, the embers brightening into floating orbs of shimmering red light. He raised his hand, sticking out his index finger in the shape of a gun and pointed it towards the masked figure.

“Bang.”

On his command, the flames streaked across the room towards the Green clansman, who leapt backwards, deflecting the attacks as best they could with their weapon.

As soon as they were out of the way, Tatara rushed over to Mikoto and knelt beside him. “Stay still,” he warned quietly, then closed his eyes, focusing his aura in the hinges of the metal handcuffs. The metal sizzled, then buckled, freeing Mikoto’s wrists. The moment his restraints were off, Mikoto hugged Tatara tightly.

“Are you okay?” Tatara asked.

“Yeah. You?”

“I’m fine.”

Their reunion was brief, and they broke apart after only a second to rush over to Anna’s cage.

“What made you decide to show up after all this time?” Misaki grumbled, addressing Izumo.

“Same reason as you: to save our princess.”

“Show off.”

Neko was already at Anna’s side, pulling at the door of the cage. “Glasses! Hey, sunglasses!” she called out. “It won’t open!”

Tatara hurried to Neko’s side to examine the lock on the cage and attempt to burn through it, but it took a moment for him to concentrate – having already used his powers once, he was starting to feel a little lightheaded, and he was evidently struggling to focus.

Meanwhile, the Green clansman had gathered themself after Izumo’s attack, and leapt back into the fray towards Neko and Tatara. “I will not let you take that girl!”

But before they could strike, Misaki cut in front of Neko, parrying the attack that should have hit her with his staff. “That’s my line!” he cried, pushing the clansman backwards and lashing out. The pair exchanged blows as Misaki backed them away from Anna’s cage, seeming reinvigorated by Izumo’s presence.

“With Homra’s number 2 here, you’re-…!” Misaki’s threat was interrupted by Izumo, who strolled casually behind him.

“Yata, buy me some time, will ya?”

Misaki spun around to look at him. “Huh? Hey, Kusanagi-san…!”

“This is important. I’m counting on you, Yatagarasu.”

Misaki tightened his grip on his weapon and squared up against the Green clansman once more. “Well I can’t let you down if you’re calling me by that name.” His aura burst out from his skin to engulf him. “Bring it on, cosplay ninja! Homra’s Yatagarasu is gonna destroy you!”

Meanwhile, Izumo walked over to Anna’s cage, leaning down to speak to her, and Tatara paused his efforts to see what he was going to say.

“Sorry,” Izumo said. “I went all the way to Germany to investigate, hoping I could do something about this, but I was too late.”

“Izumo…” Anna said quietly, looking up at him in seeming confusion. Mikoto and Tatara were both watching him too, not quite sure what he was getting at.

“But it’s no use avoiding it any longer. Anna… No, Red King.”

Anna’s eyes widened, and Mikoto looked at his old friend in shock, but Izumo merely stepped back from the cage to give her some space. Tatara stayed where he was, kneeling beside the bars, and Mikoto did the same.

“Are you okay?” Tatara asked softly. “You look like you’re in pain.”

“I’m okay,” she replied. “I… feel like I’ve been having a bad dream.”

“A bad dream?”

“Everything since you got hurt feels like a bad dream. Ever since Mikoto’s red went out…” She looked at him. “You seem so sad. But it hasn’t gone out, not really.” Anna rested her hands over her heart. “Your red is still warm, in me and Tatara and Izumo and Misaki…”

Mikoto was quiet for a moment as he processed what she said, and then suddenly, a sense of certainty gripped him as he looked at Anna. Anna, who had stayed strong despite everything that happened to her. Anna, who never seemed to lose faith. Anna, who had done him proud every step of the way, even when Mikoto felt he had failed her.

There was nobody more suited to be his successor.

The moment Izumo had spoken those words to her, Mikoto knew it was right. She had always been his princess, and now the throne was empty. It was her time to rise.

“That’s not my red,” he said quietly. “That’s your red. Your colour.”

A serene look crossed her face. “Your red… my red… Can I turn this red into a power that protects?” As she spoke, she looked at Tatara.

“Anna, you wouldn’t let a bad dream end as a bad dream,” he said gently.

Mikoto reached through the bars to cup her cheek, running his thumb across her skin, and as he did so, he felt a crackle of heat, like static.

“Anna.”

Anna closed her eyes and leaned into his touch, and when she opened them again, her pupils glowed red. The slate lit up beneath her, shining with brilliant crimson light. A smile played across her lips.

“No blood, no bone, no ash.”

Flames rose from her body, coiling around her, growing hotter and brighter until Mikoto and Tatara had to take a step back from the cage to escape the searing heat. Anna flung her arms outwards, and the shockwave shattered the bars that confined her, blowing apart the cage in an explosion that smashed the windows and had the other Red clansmen in the room shielding their faces. Her aura flared around her, pillars of red and amber and violet light swirling and taking shape, guided by the movement of her hands until they formed immense glowing wings either side of her body. Another burst of fire rose up towards the ceiling, twisting and condensing until the light began to solidify, and out of the blinding glow emerged a crimson Sword of Damocles, ascending through the roof and into the night sky. The Red clansmen watched in awe, and Mikoto found himself gripping Tatara’s hand inadvertently; the last time he had seen his Sword, it had been under the terror that it would fall at any second. And now it was Anna’s, and a swell of pride rose in his chest.

It was then that he noticed Tatara’s other hand had flown to his shoulder, over his Homra insignia, and looking around the room, Izumo and Misaki were doing the same. Misaki had pulled back the fabric of his shirt to reveal his tattoo glowing, and the light spread outwards to engulf his entire body as the awakening of his new King reinvigorated his powers, and the same was clearly happening to the other two.

Misaki inspected his fist, surrounded by his burning aura. “Awesome... I’m overflowing with power!” His grip on his weapon tightened, and he leapt back onto his skateboard and launched himself forward towards the previously-forgotten Green clansman, who hadn’t seemed to know what to do with themself in the light of what had just happened.

“Here I come!” Misaki cried, and the warning snapped the Green clansman out of their stupor. They drew a cluster of throwing knives from their pockets and flung them at Misaki, but he knocked them aside harmlessly with his staff, and with a shout, he threw a heavy punch at the masked clansman that connected solidly with their jaw and knocked them flat onto their back, skidding across the glass floor.

Misaki turned around with a grin, his eyes shining with pride, and called out to Anna, only to find her floundering as her newfound powers began to reel out of control. Mikoto was moving to step forward to help her, but Tatara pulled him back, fearing her aura would burn him now that he was no longer a King. The flames surrounding her grew hotter and brighter with every passing second, the wings expanding around her to form the shape of a phoenix that engulfed her and ascended towards the roof to blast through it and begin circling her Sword of Damocles. It left Anna kneeling on the ground, bathed in the crimson light that shone from the inscriptions on the Slate. She was trembling in apparent pain, staring down at her own reflection in the glass floor.

“I will not lose to you…” she whispered, and after a moment, the red light emanating from the phoenix above their heads began to fade, losing its shape and brightness until, after a few seconds, it extinguished, swallowed by the glow of her Sword of Damocles.

Mikoto and Tatara immediately rushed over to her, but before they could say anything, a crash from above their heads caught their attention. Kuroh and Yukari burst through a wall overhead, still locked in battle, and sent rubble scattering across the room. The impact made the entire building judder, and chunks of concrete broke loose from the ceiling and began to tumble into the chamber. Anna raised her arms instinctively to enclose herself, Neko, Mikoto and Tatara under a hemisphere of shimmering red light, and the rubble clattered harmlessly off her aura as the group watched the old comrades fight. They battled in mid-air, leaping between the falling rubble as Yukari unleashed a flurry of attacks. When they finally touched back down, Kuroh fell to his knees, his hands shaking as he clutched the hilt of his sword, and blood was beading in the corner of his mouth. He seemed to be losing.

"Don't give in, Kurosuke!" Neko cried.

Kuroh looked up at the sound of her shout.

"We're going to see Shiro again, remember?!"

Kuroh paused for a moment, as though in thought, then rose to his feet with a resolute expression. "I am clansman of the First King, Adolf K. Weismann, also known as the Silver King. I am Yatogami Kuroh. This sword will never be used for my own need; this sword will open the path and guide me to my King, and I wield it only to protect him!"

Yukari smirked. " _Now_ I like that expression on your face. All right then, as a vassal of the Green King, I must accept your challenge." He brandished his sword. "Mishakuji Yukari on guard."

"Should we be standing by and watching them fight it out? Shouldn't we do something?" Tatara said softly. "Before someone gets hurt, or they bring the building down..."

"I ain't complainin' if that poncy brat gets hurt," Mikoto replied.

But before the group had time to intervene, the pair had darted towards each other again, their swords clashing as they came together. Kuroh bounced off the strike, throwing himself high into the air before descending on Yukari, his sword poised. A cloud of dust rose as they collided, and Kuroh once again leapt back out of striking distance immediately after delivering the blow, where he collapsed to his knees. He coughed, and blood splattered the glass under his feet.

“Kurosuke!” Neko cried in panic.

Yukari was still standing, but the sleeve of his shirt was torn open and a deep gash had been cut into his arm. “That last strike of yours was quite beautiful…”

Before he could say any more, Kotosaka descended from where he had been hidden in the rafters, crying: “Yukari, Yukari, are you satisfied?” As the bird perched on Yukari’s shoulder, his voice changed from the high-pitched squawk of a parrot to an almost human voice. His eyes glowed green. “Yukari, please return. You have done enough. The one who stands before you is no longer a clansman targeted for capture, she is the Third King, the Red King.”

“But Nagare, I won’t be satisfied unless I return with one head, at least,” Yukari complained. “She’s a new-born and can barely control her power. I can handle her easily. Or even that one,” he said, nodding at Mikoto. “From what I’ve heard, he doesn’t even have clansman powers, but a former King still has some status.”

Anna and Mikoto both tensed simultaneously.

“No. We achieved what we set out to do. One must know when enough is enough.”

“Nagare?!” Izumo demanded, running into the centre of the room from where he’d been taking shelter from the falling rubble. “Hisui Nagare, the Green King?”

“What, this bird?” Misaki joined him.

“Nah, the bird is probably just a medium. Those Greens are capable of all sorts of tricks.”

“The Red Clan’s strategist is very well informed,” Nagare said, his tone flat. “I’m impressed. I regret that I cannot greet you in person, but how do you do, new Red King. I am Hisui Nagare, the Fifth and Green King. Please excuse me for having to leave so soon. As a gesture of my apology, allow me to send you a little birthday present.”

Mikoto, Tatara and Izumo exchanged dark looks at his words.

“It could also be a memorial gift,” Yukari interjected. “So show us just how strong your luck is by managing not to die here, Kuroh,” he said, turning to walk away.

“Wait!” Kuroh cried.

“We will meet again.” As he spoke, Kotosaka took off from his shoulder and flew off, and Yukari spun in a pirouette as a flash of brilliant green light engulfed him. When it faded, he was gone.

“Damn it, they ran away!” Yata hissed.

“Or maybe they just let us off,” Izumo pointed out.  “Anyway, let’s get the hell out of here…”

He was interrupted by Neko screeching in fear as crackles of green static arced across the room.

“Up there!” Anna said, looking up at her Sword of Damocles, which was surrounded by more of the green lightning.

“That’s supposed to be his little present?” Izumo said.

In the corner of the room, the Green clansman, who had been lying on the ground seemingly unconscious, finally made a shaky move to get up. They looked up at the spectacle above their heads, and said softly: “The Lightning Bolt Jutsu?!”

“Huh?!” Misaki demanded, alerted to the clansman’s presence, and he ran over to grab them by the collar. “Hey, explain this!”

The way Misaki shook the clansman made their mask slide loose, revealing a blonde-haired woman. Her voice was weak as she spoke. “It’s a jutsu whereby he amasses power from lower-ranking clansmen to create lightning.”

Misaki leapt back as though he’d been shocked. “Y-you’re a woman?!”

She ignored his surprise. “Even so, the size of it is unnatural… Don’t tell me he ordered this mission to others besides the infiltration team…?” She sat up slowly. “He’s going to blast us all at once? Damn!”

“What’re you rambling abo-…” Misaki only got half way through the sentence before the clansman disappeared through the floor of the room and out of sight. “Huh?!”

“Say, we should get out of here quickly too…!” Neko suggested, her voice panicked.

“That sounds like a good idea to me,” Tatara agreed, finding Anna’s hand to seize it with his own instinctively.

“It’s too late,” Kuroh said, watching the huge orb of green light that had started forming around Anna’s sword grow brighter and ascend higher into the air, until an immense beam of lightning burst downward from it.

Anna threw her arms up, encircling her Sword in a globe of her own aura that clashed violently with the lightning bolt. She shook with the effort of holding it back.

“Anna!” Izumo cried in worry, but Mikoto shook his head at his friend, then lay his hand on her shoulder.

“You can do it,” he said softly.

Anna kept her eyes focused on the battle above her head, but the determination in her expression solidified at the support.

“This time, I’ll protect everyone!”

Her eyes screwed closed, and the shield began to ripple as she weakened, threatening to falter, but she kept it firm, and the lightning retracted back into the glowing green orb it had originated from. But it didn’t disappear.

“Surely not again…?” Tatara said quietly. Anna was shaking violently, and Mikoto’s hand on her shoulder seemed to be keeping her standing more than anything by this point. It didn’t look as though she had the strength to hold through another onslaught.

But as the Green light brightened again, preparing for a second strike, the shield around Anna’s Sword of Damocles was encircled with another, this one glowing blue, and within it, Reisi’s Sword materialised beside her own. As the lightning jutsu struck again, it seemed to freeze as it collided with the blue aura, solidifying into glowing blue ice that stretched up into the clouds and expanded outward across the sky, then fractured and shattered into millions of tiny glittering snowflakes that floated harmlessly down.

As soon as Anna had seen they were safe, she finally let her aura shield down and immediately collapsed back into Mikoto’s arms.

“Anna!” Tatara knelt beside her as Mikoto lowered her carefully to the ground.

A few seconds passed before she opened her eyes again, blinking slowly as the glowing ice drifted down around her.

“Are you okay?” Tatara asked.

She nodded slowly. There was a gaunt look to her face; she seemed exhausted.

“You did it, Anna. You protected us.”

A faint smile crossed her lips.

“We should get outta here as soon as possible, in case Nagare tries anything else,” Izumo suggested, and Anna nodded, sitting up slowly. Mikoto moved as though to pick her up, but she shook her head, instead taking his hand to pull herself to her feet. She was a little unsteady at first, and Mikoto offered his elbow for her to hold onto, which she took gratefully, then said:

“Let’s go.”

Together, the Red and Silver clansmen headed for the doors. It seemed oddly appropriate to Mikoto that the last time he’d left this room, it had been after he had abdicated the throne, and now he was walking out arm in arm with Anna after what had sort of been her coronation.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter can also be found on [Tumblr.](http://mistleto-3.tumblr.com/post/166600462204/awakening-part-5)

By the time they reached the exit to the tower, Anna had released Mikoto’s arm, seeming to want to take her first steps into the world as King on her own two feet. Mikoto had let her go obediently, and fell into step a few paces behind her alongside Tatara, who took his hand. Now that the adrenaline of the situation had subsided, he looked drawn and weary, and the anxiety Tatara had felt when Mikoto and Anna were missing was written across his features. Everyone was clearly flagging; it had been early evening when the rescue mission had first arrived at Mihashira Tower, and now the sun was rising, dyeing the horizon in shades of pale pink and lavender. Kuroh and Neko had already left to return home.

The Red clansmen stepped over the threshold, the broken glass crunching beneath their feet where the doors had been shattered, and were met by two neat rows of Sceptre 4’s Special Police Force, with Saruhiko, Seri, and Reisi waiting behind. At the sight of them, Seri straightened up and announced:

“In honour of the new Third King, men, present your swords!”

One by one, the Blue clansmen drew their swords with a flourish and held them out. Misaki clenched his fist, as though anticipating a battle, but Izumo waved him off as Anna stepped forward to walk down through her guard of honour with Mikoto, Tatara, Izumo and Misaki following behind her. She stopped face to face Reisi, who was the only one who hadn’t drawn his blade. Their Swords of Damocles still hovered high above them, spinning lazily in the air.

“Hey, Seri-chan. Guten morgen,” Izumo said playfully. Seri merely sighed.

Meanwhile, Misaki found himself face to face with Saruhiko, and he avoided his eye purposefully, his cheeks flushed. “U-uh… t-thank-…” The expression of gratitude was heavily laboured, but he was obviously attempting to do the polite thing for his new King. When Saruhiko merely tittered in response, he let out a cry of outrage.

“Thank you for saving us,” Anna said, looking up at Reisi.

“I’m sure my assistance would have been unnecessary if you were in your best condition. However, it is a fact that Hisui Nagare, the Green King, warrants surveillance. He is a disturbing fellow.” He glanced between Mikoto and Anna gravely.

Before Anna could respond, the sound of running footsteps caught her attention, and from behind Reisi, she saw her clansmen running towards her. Rikio, Eric, Yō, Masaomi, Kousuke, Shouhei, Saburouta… everyone was there.

“Anna!” Rikio cried out in relief. “Thank goodness you’re okay!”

Misaki seemed to perk up greatly at their appearance. “You guys are way too late!”

Anna too was smiling at the sight of them. She turned to Reisi and asked: “Please take care of the rest.”

“Understood. By mutual agreement of the Third and Fourth Kings, Mihashira Tower, the dominion of the Second King, and the Dresden Slates, are now under the supervision of Sceptre 4. Fourth King, Munakata Reisi, shall be entrusted with full authority.”

Anna nodded, then her gaze darted to Reisi’s sheathed blade, and he gave her a questioning look.

“…I never thanked you for what you did on Ashinaka Island last year. If it wasn’t for you, things would be very different.”

“I was simply doing my duty.”

She gave a small, polite bow, then turned to head towards her clansmen, making a beeline for Rikio to see if he was okay after the injury he’d sustained. She left Mikoto and Tatara alone with Reisi – Izumo and Rikio had already joined the gaggle of other clansmen who had just arrived - and to Reisi’s apparent surprise, the first thing Tatara did was hug him, briefly but very tightly.

“One day, I’ll stop having to ask you to protect my family…”

“In your defence, your family is uniquely difficult to keep safe.”

“Thank you for your help,” Tatara said, releasing his hold on Reisi.

“Don’t hesitate to contact me if you should need anything else. We will discuss what is to be done about Hisui Nagare at a later date; for now, you should return home and recuperate, and have your injuries tended to.”

Now that he mentioned it, everyone was evidently a little sore. Tatara kept wincing whenever he breathed in too deeply as the bruises on his ribs protested against the movement, and Mikoto’s head was throbbing from the attack yesterday.

Before Reisi turned away, he locked eyes with Mikoto, then glanced over towards Anna and said: “She takes after you, and I mean that in the best possible way.”

Mikoto gave a wry smile and clapped him on the shoulder, then he and Tatara headed back over to their clan.

* * *

 

As the group made their way back to the bar, the people who had drifted a little since the winter time chattered animatedly as they caught each other up on what they’d been up to since they’d last all been together like this, but Mikoto, Tatara, Izumo, Rikio, and Anna were a quieter, haggard from the sleepless night, and most of them were beginning to feel the ache of their injuries a little sharper. Mikoto barely spoke a word the whole journey home, except to tell Izumo off for bringing Tatara to Mihashira Tower.

“He coulda been hurt.”

“He wasn’t, though. He’s got more power than you,” Izumo pointed out.

“And he’s more accident-prone than me.”

“’He’ is standing right here, you know,” Tatara piped up. “Kusanagi-san didn’t bring me, I went with him; he didn’t really have a say in the matter. Besides, I thought my powers would come in useful to break through any doors or restraints, and they were.”

Mikoto clicked his tongue, then went silent again, but his grip on Tatara’s hand tightened a little.

When the clan arrived back at the bar, there was a lull in the conversation as the clansmen who hadn’t been back here in a while soaked in the atmosphere of the place. Anna had gone straight upstairs to her bedroom, and Tatara didn’t blame her; she seemed exhausted.

Meanwhile, Rikio ushered Tatara and Mikoto over to sit down so he could check them over for injuries, being the only clansman who was much good at first aid. Mikoto was uncooperative as expected, but with the combined coercive efforts of Izumo, Tatara, and Rikio, he agreed to go to a doctor the next morning to get checked for concussion.

Tatara also protested weakly against the fuss, but accepted the ice pack Rikio gave him to hold against his bruised ribs, and agreed to take it easy for a few weeks, and then quiet fell once more. The other clansmen seemed almost disconcerted by the reality of Mikoto being injured – he had always seemed so infallible, and the idea that something as seemingly minor as a concussion was any danger to him was an alien concept.  

Suddenly, Shouhei turned towards Mikoto and bowed deeply, breaking the silence. “I’m sorry for abandoning Homra after you abdicated. No matter what happens, Homra will always be my clan, and we should have been there for you in your time of need, like you’ve been there for us in the past, even if you aren’t strictly our King anymore.”

At his words, other members of the clan drooped a little, nodding in sombre agreement. Mumbled apologies issued from around the room.

Mikoto clapped Shouhei on the shoulder in a gesture of understanding, and Tatara smiled lightly.

“It’s okay. I think everyone felt like they were missing a bit of direction after last year, and you couldn’t be expected to hang around here twiddling your thumbs and waiting for something to happen. The important thing is that everyone came back together in the end.”

Izumo leaned forward against the bar. “Now y’all assembled again, you should have a seat. There’s something to talk about. Now that Anna has become the new Red King, what do you plan to do now?”

Misaki piped up immediately. “Isn’t that obvious? We will re-establish Homra! And re-open the Homra bar, and from now on, we will help to make Anna the best!”

Mutterings of consensus rose from the group, until Yō said quietly: “…Would that really be good? With Anna as our boss instead of Mikoto-san, could we really be how we used to be?” He paused then, and glanced over at where Mikoto sat, seemingly nervous.

“I think it’s best for you guys to air your doubts now,” Tatara said gently. 

“If anyone isn’t sure about serving under Anna, then you’ll only be a liability,” Mikoto added. “So here’s your out.”

Misaki narrowed his eyes at Yō. “What the hell, Chitose?! Are you saying you won’t accept Anna as our new King?!”

“That’s not it!” he snapped.

Shouhei let out a sigh. “True… is it really okay if a little girl like Anna is the head of people like us…?” His tone seemed more concerned for Anna’s welfare than doubtful of her ability.

“H-hey, Shouhei…” Saburouta’s brow furrowed behind his sunglasses at his friend’s words.

“I am happy that Homra came together once again,” Eric said. “I want to be in Homra from now on too.”

“But… we can’t go on how we used to, right?” Masaomi asked.

“Hey, hey, hey, you too, Dewa? Is everybody so small-minded or what?” Misaki seemed deflated.

“What will you do, Kusanagi-san?” Kousuke said.

“I do not intend to leave Anna’s side, but you do have to think about what you want to do and decide for yourselves. Mikoto-san is right; if you came here out of habit, it would cause trouble for Anna.”

Masaomi sighed, getting to his feet. “I’ll think about it by myself for a bit… I don’t want to be a burden to Anna.”

“Me too,” said Yō, standing to join him.

“H-hey! What is there to think about?! You don’t mean that you might leave Homra, right?!” Misaki grabbed Yō by the elbow to stop him in his tracks.

“Anna is very important to me, but for me, Anna is not like Mikoto-san. Isn’t that the same for you?”

“But Mikoto-san is still here!”

“But Anna is King now.” Yō looked over at Mikoto. “He wouldn’t rule through her by proxy. She’s her own person, and she’ll make her own decisions.”

Mikoto nodded in agreement.

Yō bowed respectfully, as did Masaomi, and the pair turned and left the bar. Silence fell.

“…Chitose really respects Mikoto-san, so now he might not know what he should do,” Kousuke offered the gentle explanation. “And while Homra was disbanded, Dewa always worried about Anna and Totsuka-san and Yata-san. I think he wants to think seriously about what would be the best thing to do right now.”

“…And what are you guys going to do?” Izumo prompted.

“Ah, I’ll stay in Homra from now on too,” Kousuke said.

“You already decided?!” Saburouta exclaimed.

“It is also good without Bandou here,” Eric remarked snidely.

“Why?!”

“Because you are noisy…?” Rikio suggested, his tone joking.

Saburouta huffed, but pulled up his shirt, revealing his Homra insignia emblazoned across his abdomen. “I have this mark, so I will devote myself to Anna!”

A crash interrupted the conversation as a rock careened through the window. Tied to it with a piece of elastic was a note reading: _GET THE HELL OUT OF SHIZUME CITY!_

Shouhei unfolded it and read it aloud to the group.

“What the hell is this?” Rikio said.

“Ah… did they figure out that we have started to come together again?” Izumo remarked, running his hand through his hair in exasperation at the shower of glass shards littered across the floor. “There are plenty o’ people who think of us as eyesores. They probably think now that Mikoto-san isn’t our leader anymore, they can corner us.”

“Huh?! What the fuck…! If they have a problem with us, they should tell us upfront!” Yata cried, affronted. He stared out of the open window in search of the assailant, but it seemed they were long gone.

“…With things like this, if they knew that a little girl like Anna became our boss…” Shouhei pointed out.

“What are you saying? Anna is amazing! Shouhei wasn’t there to see it, but she struck the ceiling with a huge fire bird technique and…!” Misaki paused mid-sentence. “That was different from Mikoto-san, but…”

“Yata-san,” Shouhei cut in. “I first joined Homra only because I wanted power. But when I am in Homra, it feels like home to me. If Anna needs us, well… However, we still haven’t heard anything about Anna’s feelings…”

“We should let her rest for now,” Tatara chipped in. “You don’t have to decide right away, so if you want to wait to hear Anna’s thoughts before you declare, then that’s okay. For now, we should get this glass cleared up and board up the window until it can be repaired.”

There was a mumble of agreement, and the remaining clansmen shuffled about the bar, setting to work doing as Tatara said. As they did so, Mikoto and Tatara exchanged wearied looks, then both got to their feet.

“I think we need to get some rest,” Tatara said quietly to Izumo. “I’ll go check on Anna first, but I think it’d be best if you brief us on what you got up to in Germany later, once we’ve had a chance to take a nap and a shower or something.”

Izumo nodded. “’Course. I think ya deserve it.”

Tatara gave him a tired smile, and the pair headed up the stairs quietly, pausing by Anna’s door to nudge it open. He found Anna sitting in the middle of her bed, hugging her knees to her chest. Her eyes were screwed closed and her body glowed faintly red with her crackling aura.

“Anna…” Tatara said, starting towards her in concern.

She opened her eyes and looked up at him.

“It is okay… I will control it…” Her voice was laboured, and she took deep breaths between sentences. She paused in concentration before continuing: “What I see in my dream is… Flames are overflowing. Am I controlling the flames? Or maybe I am the flames? Or are the flames me? Over time I start to burn. I become the flame itself, and everything becomes red. That red is beautiful, but very scary.”

Slowly, the halo of shimmering fire around her began to fade, weakening as she spoke.

“But I will make this power, this beautiful red, my power. I accepted that I have become a King, so I won’t run away and give up.” By the time she had finished speaking, the fire surrounding her had extinguished completely. She smiled.

Tatara sighed affectionately, then crossed the room towards her to kneel on the mattress and tuck a lock of her hair behind her ear. “You’re going to be an amazing King.”

She looked up at him, her face softening slightly at his words. It was strange seeing Anna like this – she was normally almost doll-like, concealing her emotions behind a smooth, expressionless face. Her wide doe eyes had always seemed innocent and youthful, but they seemed to have aged twenty years in a single short day. There was a sort of gravity to her presence in a room now, the air of importance Tatara had noticed around Mikoto the first time they had met.

But as well as that, there was a sort of steeliness to her. For someone so young, she had suffered through so much, and it had seemed to turn her to porcelain – hardened her to the world, taught her to hide her weakness. But it seemed like being chosen by the Slate had… almost tempered her.  She understood the weight of her crown, but she also understood its power, and she had obviously made her decision: she would use that power to continue Mikoto’s legacy and to protect the people who couldn’t protect themselves. Because she knew what it was like to be powerless, to be a pawn in somebody else’s game, and to hurt at someone else’s hands. She used to be a girl who concealed her emotions, but now she was resolute, and it was written across her expression.

Tatara couldn’t help but hug her. “You’re going to make us all proud.”

She kissed his cheek, a faint smile playing across her lips.

“And I’m so glad you’re back home safely.”

Anna nodded, and Tatara kissed her on the forehead, then released her and got to his feet. Behind him, Mikoto cleared his throat, and Tatara turned to look at him. Mikoto glanced between Tatara and Anna pointedly, clearly wanting a moment to speak to her privately, and Tatara nodded and excused himself.

Once the door was closed, Mikoto sat down on the edge of Anna’s mattress, and there was a moment of quiet.

“…How did you do it?” Anna asked after a few seconds.

Mikoto shrugged. “I didn’t.” He paused, then added: “You’ve got the right idea, protecting people. ‘S easier to control when you’re thinking about those people.”

Anna nodded slowly. “The people you care about?”

“Mm.”

“Does it get easier?”

“It’s hard at the beginning, but it gets easier as you learn how to control it.”

“You seemed to find it more difficult towards the end,” she pointed out.

“Mm.”

“Why?”

“Bein’ in control all the time gets hard. An’ I was too rebellious. Should’a listened to Munakata more when he was talkin’ about Weismann levels an’ all that shit.” He was quiet for a moment, then continued: “Feeling bad makes it more difficult to control.”

“Were you sad, before?”

“Mm.”

“Why?”

“Totsuka says it’s because I’m ill.” He tapped his head. “Depressed or something. I dunno much about that stuff. For me, it was a cycle of losing control and feelin’ pissed at myself, so then I sucked at staying in control even more.” Mikoto spoke very quietly, as though the volume of his speech gave him some kind of deniability, like he could pretend he’d never said all this out loud if he whispered it. This was the first time he’d really voiced these feelings – he’d never had to talk about it with Tatara, because Tatara seemed to just know what was going on inside his head. It seemed important to say this to Anna though; as much as he hated admitting it out loud, he wanted her to be as prepared as possible, to have a better chance at succeeding than him.

“Do you miss it?” Anna asked.

“I don’t miss the burden. Miss the power, though. Especially today.”

“Because you wanted to protect me.” She finished the sentiment for him.

“Mm.”

“…Do you think I could give you powers, like you gave them to everyone else?”

“I dunno.”

“Would you want them?”

He nodded immediately. While the burden of a King had been too much for him, the powers of a clansman didn’t come with the same side effects, and at least it would be something. The idea of being in that position again, powerless to protect himself and Anna, watching his family and his friends hurting and being able to do _nothing…_

Anna offered him her hand, igniting her palm with her aura, and Mikoto stared at it for a moment before reaching out and taking it with his own. He felt the heat engulfing his hand, but it didn’t cause him any pain. A spark of hope ignited in his chest, and he waited for the sensation of fire filling his body the way he’d heard other clansmen describe it…

Nothing happened. With each second that passed, the spark of hope fizzled out, until he finally had to admit to himself that it was a lost cause. He sighed.

After a moment, Anna let the flames around her hand go out, and Mikoto released her, gazing at his own fingers for a moment and willing them to erupt in flames the way they used to, but they remained stubbornly unlit.

“Sorry,” Anna said, but Mikoto waved her apology away. It wasn’t her fault; it made sense that when he gave up his powers, he gave them up for good – abdicating had to come with _some_ consequences. It had even been in the words he had been told to speak: _I do hereby irrevocably renounce my throne, my powers, and my kingdom._

But it would have been nice.

“Worth a try,” Mikoto said dismissively, then looked up at her face again and changed the subject. “You did good, earlier. That lightning woulda been hard to stop.”

She smiled faintly, shuffling over to the edge of the bed to lean against Mikoto’s side, and he put his arm around her and squeezed gently.

“You should get some rest,” he said after a long moment, and Anna nodded. He kissed her forehead, then got to his feet and left her to her privacy.

When Mikoto opened the door to his and Tatara’s room, he found Tatara already in his pyjamas in bed, but his eyes were still open. Mikoto stripped down to his underwear and collapsed onto the mattress beside him with a sigh, and Tatara immediately cuddled up to his side, hugging him tightly. He buried his face in Mikoto’s chest.

“You okay?”

“I was so worried… I’m glad you’re safe.”

Tatara normally wasn’t the type to get openly upset – he hid his anxieties behind his carefree smile and insistence that everything would turn out okay. It was only when he was truly terrified that he would ever show it, and it was disconcerting to see the worry so unmistakable in his expression.

“Sorry…” Mikoto mumbled.

“It’s not your fault. I’m just relieved you’re both home and neither of you were badly hurt.”

Mikoto wrapped his arm around him and pulled him in close, stroking his arm to try and soothe him. He couldn’t think of anything to say, staring at the wall just above Tatara’s head.

When Tatara realised what he was doing, he gave him a searching look, then said: “It’s okay to be frustrated that you couldn’t protect everyone this time.”

“She tried to make me a clansman.”

“…And I take it by your tone that it didn’t work?”

Mikoto shook his head.

“You don’t need powers to be able to help her. The reason Anna is already as strong a King as she is is because you’re there to help her. You gave her an example to follow, and mistakes to learn from, and someone who’s been through it all before to support her. She needs that more than she needs another fighter, especially now that Homra seems to be coming back together again.”

Mikoto was quiet for a moment, seeming to mull over his words.

“I’m not exactly a fighter; I was just as powerless as you in that attack. I know it’s not the same thing, but just because I don’t have the power to fight off bad guys doesn’t mean I’m not a valuable asset to the clan. The same goes for you – you have experience and the respect of the clan, and you can help her through learning how to be a King.”

“Mm…” Mikoto sounded noncommittal, but his expression softened almost imperceptibly, and he sighed, leaning back against the pillow.

“We’ll feel better after some sleep.” Tatara spoke the words through a yawn, and Mikoto barely had chance to acknowledge his words before Tatara had nodded off beside him. As tired as Mikoto was, it still took a while before he was able to follow suit.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter can also be found on [Tumblr.](http://mistleto-3.tumblr.com/post/167249639044/awakening-part-6)

“GET OUT HOODLUMS!”

The words were graffitied across the doors and windows of Bar Homra in red spray paint. It had been about a week since Homra had started to reform, and already the backlash had flared dramatically. Whispers had started to bubble between clansmen that Jungle might be behind getting the news out so quickly and orchestrating the harassment – they seemed to have an impossible amount of influence amongst the general population, and nobody would have been surprised if they had marked Bar Homra as a target. They just didn’t have any proof for it yet.

“Damn it, again?!” Rikio cried in frustration as he and a few other clansmen arrived at the bar and were greeted by the crude inscriptions. “Throwing stones, and graffiti; they broke the pipes so there’s no water; they put up papers with insults about Homra all around the city, and when they put an erotic photo on Yata-san’s back he almost became incapacitated…” He broke off his rant with a sigh of exasperation as Misaki shot him a glare.

Already, it had been deemed unsafe for Mikoto, Tatara and Anna to stay in their usual home above the bar, and Izumo had arranged for them to stay in a hotel for the time being until they could be sure it was safe. Mikoto had protested at first, but it was clear he was relieved – as much as everyone believed in Anna’s ability as a new-born King, they worried what might happen if they were attacked in the night. Besides, without running water, the place wasn’t really liveable anymore anyway.

“Kusanagi-san also said that Homra’s customers already received threats, those we socialise with flinch away. Already, reopening the bar would be…” Shouhei trailed off as he and the others entered the building, not wanting to speak the uncomfortable truth that everyone seemed to be thinking.

“Damn! If Mikoto-san was still King, they wouldn’t make fun of us like this!” Misaki caught himself as soon as the sentence had slipped out of his mouth, and he bit his tongue, glancing at Anna remorsefully, who was sitting by the bar eating a bowl of soup. The conversation moved on around Misaki before he had a chance to correct himself, and he hit his forehead with the palm of his hand with a click of his tongue, then went to take a seat beside Anna.

“S-sorry…” he mumbled, and Anna turned to look at him, her wide eyes expressionless.

When she didn’t respond, he continued: “I-I was just thinking… Mikoto-san was strong, extremely dangerous, and absolute. Everyone feared and admired him; following his back without wavering had been enough to make us happy. Within that space, I had always been able to do anything… but I never thought about what Mikoto-san was thinking. Totsuka-san said he nearly died because the burden was too much. So I don’t wish for Mikoto-san to still be King, I just miss how easy everything seemed back then...” He spoke quietly, despite the fact that nobody else was in earshot, and the words came out as a sort of garbled rush, as he couldn’t quite stem the flow of rambling once it had started.

“…Maybe things would not have turned out like this if it had been Mikoto,” Anna replied, equally quietly.

“Hey, Anna…” Misaki’s fists clenched remorsefully; it should have been obvious that she was worried about not living up to his legacy, and it was a bone-headed thing for him to say. “Is it okay if I tell you something a little pathetic?”

She nodded.

“I am… kinda stupid…” he confessed, and tried not to act too offended when Anna once again nodded.

“Ahh… because I’m stupid, I fail even if I give my best, and I don’t really understand other people. I probably don’t understand a thing about Mikoto-san either… I hate being left by people without me ever understanding them. Because I’m stupid, you have to tell me, or else I won’t understand, so Anna, if there is something you want to do or don’t want to do or want to have done then tell me, whenever you want!”

She smiled softly. “Okay.”

At that point, Tatara took a seat the opposite side of Anna, and Misaki’s head dropped, unsure of how much he’d overheard.

“What I think Misaki is trying to say is that he thinks you’re going to be a great King. But people outside of Homra haven’t quite gotten that message yet.”

“Y-yeah! I wanna help you, because you’re my King. It doesn’t matter if you’re not Mikoto-san – those assholes just don’t know you’re just as great as him. They underestimate you and they think you’re just a little girl, but they’re gonna learn the hard way!” Misaki suddenly seemed fired up, and he put his hand on Anna’s shoulder encouragingly, his eyes brimming with optimism.

Tatara smiled at his expression, then turned to Anna: “Kusanagi-san says he wants to speak to you upstairs.” Over the past week, Izumo and Tatara had led the operation to find out who was carrying out the assault on Homra, so Misaki suspected it had something to do with that. “Yata-chan, you should probably come too – you’re Homra’s vanguard.”

Perked up by the inclusion, Misaki followed Tatara and Anna upstairs to the study above the bar where Izumo had been working. When the three of them arrived, they found Izumo staring intently at a laptop while Mikoto sat nearby, half paying attention. At the sound of the door opening, Izumo spun on his seat to face everyone. He waited for the door to close behind them before speaking.

“Based on the intel we’ve obtained, the culprits’ objective is this: a few groups who hold a grudge against Homra say they won’t allow our revival, and temporarily joined forces.”

“So it’s not Jungle?” Tatara asked.

“Nah, thankfully it’s smaller-scale than that. Even if these groups don’t go as far as dirtyin’ their hands, they’re tryin’ to make it seem it’s best if we give up like this, as it’d also help those groups. Their means of cornerin’ us ain’t bad; all things considered, it’s difficult for Homra to stay in Shizume City. They’ll show that nothin’ good will come from bein’ involved with us, and we’ll be isolated.”

Misaki’s face fell. “They really hate us, huh?”

“There are several organisations which we hold friendly relations with who told me that they’ll maintain those. After that, we have to settle things and regain our honour. Investigations are going on – I’ve been in touch with an informant who reckons she has some solid info, and she’s willin’ to talk to us, so you should go down there and see what she knows, Yata-chan.” As Izumo spoke, he pulled out his phone to send the address to Misaki.

“I won’t let ya down!” Misaki declared, then promptly hurried from the room.

“Once we’ve got all the info, we’ll start makin’ plans for a counterattack. Everyone on the same page?”

Mikoto and Tatara nodded in agreement, but Anna remained silent.

“Anna, are you alright?” Tatara asked.

“I want to think by myself for a little while,” she said quietly.

“Okay, don’t go far.”

Anna nodded, then got to her feet and headed for the door. Mikoto let out a sigh as she left, which was the first hint of emotion he’d shown all afternoon. The tension in his neck betrayed how much he hated her being out of sight after what had happened last week. Tatara lay his hand on top of Mikoto’s in an attempt to comfort him as they watched her leave.  

True to her word, Anna didn’t wander far from the bar – barely a few streets before she reached a bridge where it was quiet and there weren’t many people around. There, she stopped to look out over the water, but she didn’t take in the sight.

Mikoto had been a King just by being there – people kept saying that under his leadership, nobody would have dared attack Homra. But she was just a little girl, not even a teenager yet – who would be intimidated by that?

“I am so small… Can I even do anything?” she found herself murmuring out loud.

But she was dragged from her thoughts by a shadow lingering too close behind her – the figure of a man. She turned to see who it was, but before she could get a good look at his face, his hands were on her wrists, unshakeable. She struggled against his grip, looking around frantically for aid, but the streets either side of her were empty, and the rough, sweaty skin of her assailant’s palm was over her mouth before she had a chance to cry for help. She continued to flail, kicking out at him, attempting to claw at his fingers, but she wasn’t strong enough to loosen his grip. It didn’t even occur to her to use her aura. It had never really been powerful enough for her to use it for fighting before, and in her panic, she barely remembered they existed at all.

Within seconds, her eyes were covered with strips of fabric and her wrists were bound, and she felt herself being carried and haphazardly dumped in the back of a vehicle, probably a van by the sounds of it. Her first reaction in her panic wasn’t to be afraid for herself though, oddly enough. Instead, she was more worried for her family. What would Mikoto think, that he hadn’t protected her? What would Tatara and Izumo and Rikio and Misaki do when they heard she’d been kidnapped for the second time in as many weeks? What would her clansmen think? Most of them already had their doubts, and there was no question that Mikoto would never have let this happen to him.

 _What kind of a King am I?_ she thought as the door slammed shut.

* * *

 

When Misaki arrived at the address he’d been given, he was greeted by a middle-aged woman with curly hair tied behind her back – a regular informant of Homra’s. What he hadn’t been expecting was that Masaomi and Yo were already there.

“Oh, Yata-chan, come in~!”

“Y-you guys! What are you doing here?!”

Yo looked sheepish. “W-what, you ask…”

Masaomi continued the sentence for him. “We heard there were some strange attacks on Homra…”

The woman chimed in: “These two came in here with extremely scary faces, you know. They said they wanted information on the groups cornering Homra. I already located a few of the meeting points those groups use, but Kusanagi-chan asked for those, so I can’t really tell these two~.” She paused and seized Masaomi by the arm. “Though Dewa is to my liking, so I hesitated a bit.”

“Ha?!” Yo seemed affronted by her stage-whispered confession.

“Hmm… going to people outside of Homra, huh? Are you saying it would be a pain to come back?” Misaki glanced between the two fellow clansmen with a seething frustration, and the two once again looked admonished, saying nothing in their own defence.

“Chitose,” Yata continued.

“What?”

“Earlier you said that Anna is not like Mikoto-san for you, right?”

Yo paused, seeming suspicious. “Yeah…?”

“For me it’s the same. It’s obvious… I mean, Anna isn’t Mikoto-san. Anna is Anna. The way I admire Mikoto-san, and how I wanted to work under his command, it’s not like that. But I want to support Anna and protect her with all of my strength.” He straightened up as he spoke, and there was a look of recognition in the faces of his friends, as though what he’d said had resonated with them.

However, before they could reply, a notification chimed from Misaki’s watch, and he excused himself to glance down at the screen. “Sorry, a message…”

Misaki didn’t recognise the number. He opened the photo attachment.

 _If the brat is important to you then get out of Shizume City._ The caption went alongside a photograph of Anna, her wrists bound, her eyes covered, and the muzzle of a gun pressed to her temple.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for violence in this chapter. 
> 
> This chapter can also be found on [Tumblr.](http://mistleto-3.tumblr.com/post/167951807594/awakening-part-7)

A heavy silence congealed the air as Mikoto, Tatara, and Izumo stared numbly at the image of Anna they’d been sent. The horror of her vanishing once again into the hands of men whose intentions were unknown settled like a weight over each of their shoulders as for a moment, they simply stared.

Mikoto was the first to speak: “Can we find out where she is?”

Izumo swallowed before answering. “Yeah, Sceptre 4 has the technology to trace where the message was sent from. I’ll call Seri-chan.” With that, he left the room, his movements stiff.

Tatara hadn’t spoken yet – he was still staring at the spot of empty air where the image on the phone screen had been a moment earlier, his expression blank.

“Totsuka,” Mikoto said gently, nudging him out of his stupor, and Tatara looked up at him.

“…How could we let this happen again?” he said after a second, his voice hollow.

“It looks like they’re just lowlife thugs, ‘s not like we’re fighting another clan to get her back this time.” It felt odd for Mikoto to be the one comforting Tatara – usually it was the other way around, but Tatara had been so… fragile recently. The first kidnapping, combined with all the stress of the past year, seemed to have weakened the joy that always seemed to emanate from him. His optimism wavered more easily now, his bad days when he couldn’t quite keep up that cheerful smile were more frequent.

“We’ll get her back,” Mikoto lay his hand on Tatara’s shoulder, and Tatara turned to press his face into Mikoto’s chest, taking a few deep breaths to steady himself. The way they trembled betrayed how close he was to tears.

After a moment, the door opened again, and Izumo returned. “Seri has the details, she says it shouldn’t take long to trace – it’s obviously no professional job. She’ll send me the location as soon as they have it. We should prepare the clan for a raid.”

Tatara nodded, stepping out of Mikoto’s embrace, and Izumo clapped him on the shoulder reassuringly.

“Do you have a gun?” Mikoto said suddenly.

Izumo paused. “Why?”

“I ain’t walking into another fight unarmed.”

“King…” Tatara protested, but Mikoto glanced down at him with a dark look in his eyes, and Tatara gave a small, submissive nod of understanding. After all those years of being told his powers were meant to protect, having nothing to protect the people he loved with was putting Mikoto on edge.

“…Yeah, I’ve got one somewhere. You sure about this?” Izumo asked.

Mikoto simply nodded, and Izumo left the room again.

“If you’re taking a gun with you, I think I should stay here…” Tatara said quietly. “If you had to use it, the sound… I don’t know how I’d react. I might just be a liability, so…”

Mikoto was quiet for a moment, kicking himself internally. It hadn’t even crossed his mind, how Tatara would feel seeing him holding a gun, and the uncertainty on Tatara’s face made Mikoto’s stomach twist.

“Sorry.”

“N-no, I get it… I guess part of me would rather you had something to protect yourself with; God knows I don’t know what I would do if anything happened to you, but I just…” He sighed. “I don’t like guns. For obvious reasons, but also, your powers weren’t just meant to hurt, before, they could protect, too. But what else can a gun do but kill people? I don’t like it.”

Mikoto nodded in understanding. “You shouldn’t stay here by yourself. At least wait outside, Anna will wanna see you.”

“Okay…”

“I won’t use it unless I need to.”

“I know. I just wish you never needed to.”

They were interrupted once more by the door opening. “I’ve briefed the guys, and called Yata. He says he’s with Chitose and Dewa and they’re all ready to meet us there. Seri just got back to me with the coordinates, looks like the message came from some old abandoned warehouse not far from here; we’ve done raids like this in our sleep,” Izumo explained, and the two other men nodded. Then Izumo handed a pistol and a magazine full of ammunition to Mikoto, who pocketed it. Mikoto didn’t miss the loaded glance Izumo shot at Tatara, who avoided looking at the weapon.

“Let’s go,” Mikoto said.

* * *

 

“…Is this brat dangerous?” muttered one of the gang members, from what sounded like a cautious distance away from her.

“We won’t do anything reckless; it would backfire. We will just scare her a bit,” replied another voice.

“The truth is, without Suoh Mikoto at the helm, Homra is as good as done. Sure, I’d prefer it if he were dead, but he isn’t dangerous anymore. We are just making all of those bratty rascals up and leave Shizume City,” said a third man.

 _Should I burn these people?_ Anna wondered. _If I burn these people, then it would settle things, right? If it were Mikoto, then he would do just that._

The thought didn’t quite sit right with her somehow. Yes, it was what Mikoto would have done, but even thought she was afraid, these people didn’t seem to want to hurt her. Killing them seemed disproportionate, cruel.

“Ha! In the end, with Suoh Mikoto fallen from grace, Homra is just a bunch of half-cooked brats gathering…” began the third voice again.

_...But just because I don’t want to burn them doesn’t mean I have listen to them insult Mikoto without doing anything. I don’t have to accept them kidnapping me. I can stand up to them without doing what Mikoto would have done._

Anna got to her feet slowly.

“Huh? Hey, don’t move around…” a man called to her, but he was interrupted by a soft crackle of flame emanating from her skin to singe through the bindings around her wrists and eyes, and the cinders floated down onto the concrete. She finally got a good look at her captors, who stumbled back in shock at the sight of her powers – one was a plain-looking brunette man, another with dark hair slicked back and a moustache that made him look like a children’s cartoon villain, and a third whose hair reminded her of Rikio’s, but his face wasn’t nearly as attractive. All of them wore ill-fitting suits with no ties, and looked vaguely sweaty with anxiety. By the looks of her surroundings, she was being kept in a warehouse somewhere, but there was nothing to give her a more specific hint of her location. She stared at her kidnappers for a moment, weighing up her options.

_If it were Mikoto…_

“Anna!”

Her thoughts were interrupted by a cry that sounded like Misaki’s voice, and then there was a crash as a column of flame blew down the door into the warehouse, and her clan piled in – Misaki, Rikio, Eric, Saburouta, Shouhei, Kosuke, even Yō and Masaomi were there. And behind them all stood Mikoto, with his hands in his pockets, calm and unreadable as always.

“H-homra?! Why are they here?!” cried the dark haired man. Their expressions had morphed abruptly from nervousness to outright terror.

“Suoh Mikoto?!” another muttered.

“You bastards, what are you doing?!” Yō snarled.

The captors were too petrified to reply – it seemed their big-talking confidence had evaporated the moment they were confronted with any real danger.

Homra’s clansmen seemed to be bristling, as though ready for a fight, and Anna was suddenly overcome with alarm. Just because her friends had arrived didn’t mean she had changed her mind about attacking her kidnappers. As Misaki stepped forward, clenching his fist, she remembered what he’d said not long ago:

_“If there is something you want to do or don’t want to do or want to have done then tell me.”_

“Wait!” she cried out, and her clan paused, looking at her with various expressions of confusion. “I… I can’t become Mikoto. That is why I will not do things like Mikoto.”

She looked over at him at the back of the group and thought she saw him smiling ever so slightly. It was like he’d said: it was her Red now, not his, and she could never be, didn’t _want_ to be the kind of King he had been. So she had to find her own way to rule.

Her aura flowed out from her chest, surrounding her and solidifying into wings of scintillating flame. Her eyes glowed with her Red.

Her clan seemed to brighten at the display of her powers.

“Anna, what should we do?” Misaki called to her.

She turned to look at her captors, who cowered back, seeming almost too afraid to flee.

“…We will not burn them today,” she decided. “My desire to protect the things that I cherish caused me to become King. That is why I will not burn anything that does not have to be burnt. It is enough if we show them that they are better off not attacking us.”

The dark haired kidnapper suddenly fumbled for his gun, seeming to have snapped out of his fear-driven paralysis. With shaking hands, he fired a shot at Anna, but before it could find its target, Misaki leapt between them and deflected the bullet with his aura as easily as swatting a fly. He brandished his weapon with a grin.

“Hey bastards! If you have business with our King, then Yatagarasu has to let you pass first!”

With cries of agreement, the rest of Anna’s clansmen joined her, standing in a barricade between her and her attackers. Finally, Mikoto came to stand beside her, a handgun dangling loosely between his fingers.

“I cannot become Mikoto,” she said, addressing her clan. “But, if that is okay with you, if we were all together, I would be very happy.”

Her clansmen were grinning, and yells of assent rose from each of them. The sound made Anna’s heart swell.

“Anna, for Homra’s revival let’s do that chant!” Rikio suggested.

She smiled, nodding.

“Then, Yata-san,” Rikio said turning to his friend, and Yata grinned at him, and all at once, the clan erupted into a shout that made the hair on Anna’s arms stand on end, and seemed to shake the very air in the room.

_“No Blood! No Bone! No Ash!”_

The last time she’d heard this chant had been when Mikoto abdicated the throne. The sound alone seemed to be enough to shake the last of the resolve of her kidnappers until it crumbled, and they glanced between each other with terror in their eyes, then fled.

* * *

 

Outside, sitting on the bonnet of the van they’d arrived in with Izumo, Tatara heard the cry rise inside the building, and he closed his eyes to soak in the sound. There was something comforting about it, something about the sound of it that made everything seem like it was right with the world again. His people were back together, and the panic rising in his throat at the sound of the gunshot subsided a little; he had felt the makings of an anxiety attack gathering in his chest, but the familiar clamour released a little of the pressure squeezing his ribcage.

“Now ain’t that a sound for sore ears,” Izumo commented, exhaling a cloud of smoke, and Tatara nodded.

“Mm…”

The slam of a door being thrown open caught Izumo’s attention, and he perked up, getting to his feet. Footsteps pounding against the concrete echoed between the empty buildings, and he went to investigate.

“Sh-shit… Even though they said if we poke Homra just a bit they would collapse…” the brown haired man muttered to himself as he ran, but he was interrupted as Izumo’s aura exploded off the ground in front of him. He stumbled backwards and fell, staring up at Izumo in wide-eyed terror.

Izumo took a casual drag of his cigarette, standing over the assailant. “Our new King has been generous, but who said you could just run away? You bothered us with some pranks there, you wanted to annoy us right?”

The man didn’t respond, and Izumo grinned, speaking in a false saccharine tone. “Well~. Let’s have a long, unreserved talk about it, okay?”

Tatara had been watching this unfold, but the babble of the rest of the clan's voices emerging from the warehouse caught his attention, and he turned and ran back towards his clan; his worry hadn’t quite subsided after the sound of the gunshot. But nobody seemed injured – on the contrary, almost everyone was beaming from ear to ear, and the energy of the group seemed to have changed completely, like they’d been electrified, reinvigorated.

“Anna!” he hurried over to her. She was walking beside Mikoto, his hand on her shoulder, and turned at the sound of his voice. “Are you alright?”

“Yes,” she said serenely. A small smile curled on her lips.

“Is everyone else alright? I heard a gun…”

“One of the attackers fired. Misaki stopped it,” Mikoto explained.

“As long as nobody was hurt… What happened?”

“Someone grabbed me and put me in a van and brought me here, but they didn’t hurt me. I decided I didn’t want to hurt them though, just scare them enough that they don’t do it again,” Anna said, looking up at Mikoto. “I will never be Mikoto, so I have to find my own way to be King.”

“She’s already doing better than me,” Mikoto said. As difficult as Mikoto usually was to read, the pride was written across his body, in the way he carried his shoulders, and the slight twist to the corner of his mouth. And for the first time since Anna had been chosen by the slate, Tatara wasn’t worried about her.

“But...” Anna said.

“What is it sweetie?” Tatara asked.

“They were badmouthing Mikoto.”

Mikoto tilted his head, as though asking her to elaborate.

“Saying you've fallen from grace, and now you aren't our leader anymore, Homra is nothing. It's like they don't respect you anymore.”

“Respect isn't the same as fear,” Mikoto said bluntly, seeming disinterested.

Misaki, who had been standing nearby, piped up suddenly. “It is when the people doing the respecting are your enemies. Just because Mikoto-san isn't King anymore doesn't mean they should relax!”

Misaki’s words made Mikoto pause.

“Kusanagi caught one of the kidnappers as he tried to escape,” Tatara said quietly. “If you wanted to send a message…”

Mikoto looked at Anna – she was the King now, and she’d decided not to rule as Mikoto had, so he felt it prudent to ask her permission.

“Just because Mikoto’s way of ruling would not work for me doesn’t mean it didn’t work for Mikoto. I won’t say what you can and can’t do,” she said.

“People need to respect Anna as the new King, but that doesn’t mean they shouldn’t respect Mikoto-san too,” Misaki chipped in.

Mikoto nodded, then patted Anna on the shoulder before turning to head in Izumo’s direction.

He found his old friend stood over the attacker just inside the warehouse he’d just vacated. The man’s wrists were bound, and there was a shiny, pink patch of freshly singed skin on his cheek, but it didn’t look like Izumo had to rough him up too badly. Tears poured down his cheeks as he babbled out names of his associates and others who had plotted against Homra, and Izumo took note of them in his phone diligently. The man froze at the sight of Mikoto, who had to admit it felt at least a little bit satisfying to see his appearance still struck fear into his enemies.

Izumo turned around to see what he was looking at, and waved lazily in greeting at his friend. Mikoto nodded in acknowledgement at him, then walked across the room to loom over the kidnapper.

“What’d you think you were gonna achieve?” he asked, his voice flat as he placed the sole of his boot on the man’s chest.

“W-we wanted to shake Homra a little; we weren’t gonna hurt her...!”

“Honourable, kidnapping a little girl. Too afraid to pick on someone your own size?”

“We knew she was important, t-thought it’d be enough to get Homra to leave Shizume City if they thought she was in danger.” The man’s voice trembled violently as he spoke.

“Who’s in danger now?” Izumo muttered behind him, taking a drag of his cigarette.

“She said you wouldn’t burn us today!” The man cried, panicked.

“Who said anything about burning?” Mikoto said, then gave the man a sharp kick in the ribs.

The man spluttered out a cry of pain, coughing and attempting to clutch his side through the binding around his wrists. There was something about the blunt force of the impact that gave Mikoto a sort of sick satisfaction – he hadn’t had a physical fight since before he’d abdicated, and it wasn’t until now he realised how much he missed the rush of seeing his enemies beaten down. After the past few weeks, he’d felt powerless, unable to protect his family and even himself, but here was something he could do to defend them, and for the first time in he had no idea how long, he didn’t feel helpless. And even better, this came without the cost of his old powers – the fear of accidentally going too far and killing someone didn’t linger over him now. Finally, he felt powerful.

“We… Didn’t mean…” the kidnapper wheezed, until Mikoto pressed the tip of his boot to the man’s mouth to quiet him.

“I don’t care what you meant. You won’t burn today so you can tell your friends not to underestimate Homra again.”

“Not to underestimate Mikoto again,” Izumo chimed in. “Don’t piss someone off if you ain’t prepared to deal with the fallout. And don’t think ‘cause Anna looks like a cute princess, she couldn’t o’ killed you an’ all your cronies before ya could blink.” He punctuated the sentence by flicking the flint of his cigarette lighter.

“Next time, no matter what she says, you’ll get no mercy,” Mikoto said flatly, lifting his boot off the man’s face to deliver another kick to the side of the head, just about restraining himself enough to avoid knocking him out, before turning and walking away, leaving him in Izumo’s capable hands. As Mikoto headed back towards the exit, he tried his best to pretend that the look of terror in the man’s eyes hadn’t given him a rush he hadn’t felt in months.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter can also be found on [Tumblr. ](http://mistleto-3.tumblr.com/post/168195272154/awakening-part-8)
> 
> (I apologise for the slow updates on this fic. I'd say it's real life and other projects, and that's partly true, but honestly I've just been feeling a little demotivated because the K fandom is so quiet recently and there aren't a whole bunch of people still commenting on fics etc. It's started to feel like nobody is really reading the updates orz, so it's been hard to motivate myself to write them. I'm hoping once I progress onto the Return of Kings timeline where things deviate a little more substantially from canon, I'll have a little more enthusiasm for writing this fic. I'm going to attempt to post a chapter a week like I'd originally planned to, but Mikototsu week is coming up, and so is assessment season, so updates might be a little slower than I'd like. I appreciate your patience and support, and I'm endlessly grateful to the folks who have commented on this fic so far, you guys keep me going.)

It was almost eerie how suddenly the opposition to Homra’s return died down after the failed kidnapping attempt. Not so much as a pebble was thrown at the bar’s windows from then on, and the disquiet rumblings of the people who stood to lose out if the Red clan rose again evaporated overnight. It seemed they had quickly realised it was wise to hold a healthy level of respect both for Homra’s new and old Kings, and whispers travelled quickly that people shouldn’t be fooled by rumours of Mikoto’s decline from power, or the unsuspecting appearance of the new leader.

Much to the relief of the clansmen, especially Izumo, attempts could be made to start getting back to normal. Once all the graffiti was cleaned up and repair works to the parts of the building that had been damaged by vandalism were finished, the bar finally reopened and at last, some semblance of normality resumed. Mikoto, Tatara and Anna moved back into the apartment on the first floor, the bar was once again populated with its clansmen during the day, and even Izumo’s regular after-hours visitor began dropping by again for the first time in the better part of a year. Tatara was glad of it – Izumo had been through as rough a time as anybody over the past year, nearly losing his two best friends and spending six months the other side of the world, it was nice to see him reunited with his old flame, who was once again back at the bar more evenings than not.

A few weeks after Anna’s kidnapping, Seri sat as she normally did on one of the barstools, but this time she seemed distracted. She stared off into some middle distance as Izumo spoke to her, her eyes unfocused, clearly not absorbing a word he had said.

“Seri-chan.”

Silence.

“Seri-chan~?” Izumo teased in a sing-song voice, and she blinked, fixing her eyes on him.

“Eh?”

“You sure are spacin’ out. What’s wrong?”

She folded her arms. “It’s nothing. I am glad the situation involving your clan has settled down. Not only is it busy lately, if problems were to arise it would be intolerable.”

As she spoke, Izumo set down a cocktail in front of her.

“You’re thinkin’ they’d behave improperly in front of the princess who decided to take action, aren’t you? Our group’s been actin’ decently lately.”

Seri slid the drink towards her and stirred it with the straw, mixing in the generous scoop of anko Izumo had added to it. “Is that so?” There was something forlorn about her expression as she spoke though; something was clearly weighing on her mind.

“That’s how it’s been with our King, but how is it for you?”

She sighed. “The Captain is…”

A creak on the staircase interrupted her, and she turned to see Anna peeking into the room, dressed in a lion kigurumi. There was a moment of silence as the two women regarded each other, caught off-guard by one another’s presence. Anna’s eyes were wide, like a deer in headlights, and she seemed slightly mortified.

“The dignity of a King…” she mumbled.

“Ah… um… don’t worry about it…” Seri replied awkwardly.

“Oh, Anna. What’s the matter?” Izumo asked.

“I was… thirsty…” she shuffled back a few steps towards the door she’d just come from, as though wanting to make her escape, but before she could, Izumo said:

“I see. Come here and sit down.”

“Nn…” Anna made an uncomfortable noise.

“Right now, Seri-chan is not the Lieutenant of Sceptre 4, but the private Awashima Seri-san. This is also not the red territory right now, but Bar Homra. You two don’t have to brace yourselves like that,” Izumo said lightly.

Anna lowered the hood of her onesie and sat down on a barstool, her cheeks flushed pink, as Izumo poured her a glass of milk and slid it across the bar to her.

“That you’re worrying about your dignity as a King is unexpected,” Seri remarked.

“I just thought I shouldn’t show any lame sides in front of a Blue.”

Seri giggled, but the laughter fell a little flat. “You’re worrying about the Blue King.” It seemed more of a projection than an observation.

Evidently Anna wasn’t the only one who had noticed that; Izumo furrowed his brow. “…You mean the burden of killing a King?” he asked.

Anna supposed Izumo’s description was a little off; it was more the burden of saving a King. The act of killing the Colourless King must have been difficult in the sense of the physical strength it must have required, but Reisi was a pragmatic sort of person, and he understood it was necessary. Anna didn’t imagine him losing much sleep over taking a very dangerous person off the streets. What would have been much heavier on his shoulders was the pressure of knowing what would happen if he failed – the death of his friend, and the potential for a cataclysm.

And then there was all the unrest of this past year; Homra had dissolved, so all the thuggery and misdeeds that Homra usually took responsibility for dealing with fell onto Sceptre 4’s shoulders, and now they were also in charge of protecting Mihashira Tower, and on top of that, the Gold King’s conspicuous absence was drawing more Green clan mischief out of the woodworks. Now that Anna was King, she insisted of being kept abreast of all this, and it wasn’t surprising if Reisi was beginning to struggle under the weight of everything that had been piled on him recently.

Seri was quiet for a moment.

“…Sorry,” Izumo said eventually, lighting a cigarette

“Why?”

“It’s Homra’s fault all this mess started in the first place.”

Seri shook her head, but the mention of her King seemed to have brought whatever was eating away at her to the surface, and she admitted: “…The Captain’s Weismann level is out of order. And if it’s found out among the other members…”

“You’re worried about him.”  

She nodded.

“Even if ya say his Weismann level has become unstable, if ya think about how it was in Mikoto’s case, I don’t think it’ll be like that soon. But if there’s anything I can do, tell me anytime. I want to be helpful.”

At the way the pair of them looked at each other, the way they leaned forward a little over the bar to close the distance between them by a few inches, Anna slipped wordlessly off her seat and shuffled back over to the staircase, leaving her empty glass on a coaster. She was glad they were spending time together again – they seemed to make each other happy. But still, what Seri had said about Izumo raised alarm bells; Anna had never imagined Reisi as the kind of person to struggle to control his powers. He always seemed so collected, and far too proud to ask for help.

Anna climbed the stairs back up to the apartment, but instead of going to her own bedroom, she pushed open the door to Mikoto and Tatara’s room. The lamp was on, and Tatara was asleep with his head on Mikoto’s arm whilst Mikoto was still awake, reading a novel on Tatara’s e-reader. As the door opened, he looked up, peering over the frames of his reading glasses at her. (Since he’d lost his Kingly powers, his heightened senses seemed to have dimmed to that of a regular person, and he’d eventually found himself squinting to read. It had still taken Tatara months of badgering to get him to go for an eye test, though.)

“Anna?” he said softly.

“Awashima is downstairs.”

“She’s been here more often recently.”

“I overheard her saying something…”

“You eavesdropping again?” he said with a soft smile.

“She said Munakata’s Weismann level is unstable.”

Mikoto’s smile vanished.

“…Can we go see Basashi?” The ulterior motive was barely disguised in her voice, and Mikoto nodded, not questioning the lateness of the hour.

“Go get dressed.”

She nodded and turned to leave the room as Mikoto set down his book and reading glasses on the bedside table, then extricated his arm from under Tatara’s head. Tatara stirred and looked up at Mikoto sleepily, letting out a little questioning noise from the back of his throat.

“Anna heard something about Munakata, wants to investigate, so I’m going with her,” Mikoto explained.

“Heard what?”

“Problems with his Weismann level.”

Tatara furrowed his brow. “Okay, be safe.”

Mikoto nodded. “We won’t be long.”

Tatara leaned up to kiss him goodbye, then settled back in against the mattress as Mikoto got up to throw some clothes on.

He met Anna a few minutes later in the hallway.

“I don’t want Kusanagi to worry…” she said, glancing down at the staircase to the bar.

“We can go through the fire escape,” Mikoto suggested.

“Or out the window.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“I can use my fire wings. We’ll get there faster.”

“…Alright.” Mikoto clearly couldn’t help but be a little dubious, but he allowed Anna to take the lead nonetheless, following her to the window and watching her throw it open and climb out onto the ledge. Glowing wings unfurled from either side of her spine, and she stepped forward into the open air as the wings beat to keep her aloft. She turned to face Mikoto, encouraging him to follow her, then gestured him to turn so his back was to her. Then she wrapped her arms around his chest tightly and lifted off, carrying him with her. It was sort of surreal, seeing the preternatural strength of a King in the body of a 12 year old girl, but Mikoto supposed it was something he would have to get used to.

It seemed like no time at all before they slowed, the rushing of the cool night air around them dying down as they approached Tsubaki-Mon and finally touched down in the grounds. Then Anna led the way to the stables, letting herself into the building with Mikoto following behind. At the sight of her, Basashi whinnied a greeting, shaking his head as his coat turned from bay to white, and wings appeared at his shoulders. Anna picked up a carrot from a bag of them by the door and offered it to him, stroking his velveteen muzzle as he snorted a thank you.

“So what did you wanna do?” Mikoto asked.

“Use my marble to find out about Munakata.”

He nodded, but just as Anna reached into her pocket to fish out a marble, the barn door swung open with a bang, and Saruhiko burst in, a mixture of irritation and shock in his expression.

“Y-you!” he spluttered, looking so exasperated he might explode as he stared between the two Reds.

“I wanted to see Basashi,” Anna said simply.

“To hell with ‘I wanted to see it’!” he snapped, ushering them both with flapping arms out of the stable and towards the gates. “You can’t just do as you please! Kings have their territories and trespassing is a breach of the agreement, and you,” he said, looking at Mikoto, “should know better than enabling this!”

Mikoto couldn’t help but smirk a little, partly at the comedy of it all, but it was also nice to see Saruhiko seeming so comfortable. When he was in Homra, he’d always seemed so uptight around Mikoto, as though he made him nervous, but it didn’t seem to bother him so much now. It seemed being in a clan where he felt he fit in better was doing him good.

“Besides, a kid shouldn’t be out pretty much unprotected in the middle of the night,” Saruhiko continued. There was something of Reisi in the way he lectured that amused Mikoto.

“I am fine. Even in the night, even if I was by myself.”

Saruhiko clicked his tongue. “…Maybe, but… Kusanagi-san and Totsuka-san have got to be worrying about you being out this late.”

“That’s okay. Tatara knows where we are, and we left through the window with my fire wings to not make Izumo worry,” Anna said.

Saruhiko rubbed his temples with his thumb and forefinger. “You… What the hell are you using your King powers for… You don’t follow the agreement; you act unreasonably. Last generation and this generation too, why is the Red King like this...” Saruhiko muttered, and Anna looked a little downtrodden by his criticism.

“The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree,” Mikoto said simply, lighting a cigarette.

“Who said you could smoke on Sceptre 4 grounds…” Saruhiko began, then trailed off with a sigh, seeming to realise it was pointless as he looked from Mikoto to Anna. Whilst he and Anna were never close during the time they were both in Homra, they didn’t have the same animosity that Saruhiko had towards some of the other Red clansmen.

“…You really have become a King, huh?” he said.

“Yes.”

“…So what did you come here for anyway? I’m guessing it wasn’t the horse in the middle of the night.”

“Right now, Seri is a the bar,” Anna began, taking a red marble from her pocket and lifting it to her face to peer through it at the main building.

“The Lieutenant?”

“Yes. Because she seemed to be worried, so we came to check out the situation,” she explained.

“Is this about the Captain?” Saruhiko asked. “…What does that person look like to you?”

Anna stared for a moment, concentrating, before she lowered the marble and slipped it back into her pocket. “I don’t really understand it,” she said finally. “But right now, there is something huge weighing on him. And it’s not just one thing; on top of that, lately the surroundings have been astir. Noisy. Bustling. It feels like just before a storm happens.” She focused her gaze on Saruhiko. “If a storm comes, things will be even worse for that person. That’s why at that time, Seri and Saruhiko will become his support.”

Saruhiko clicked his tongue. “Simple clansmen becoming a King’s support?”

“It happens more than you think,” Mikoto interjected.

“If you’re talking about Totsuka-san, that’s different; you two…”

“Not just Totsuka, and not just for me,” Mikoto interrupted.

Anna nodded. “I don’t know what I would do without the support of my clan. You are able to become it for Munakata.” Then she pulled her hood up, looking at Mikoto.

He inclined his head. “We should go.”

Anna bowed politely to Saruhiko, and as she turned to leave, she added: “And Misaki is doing fine.”

“Not interested!” Saruhiko snapped, then stormed back towards the building.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Major content warning in this chapter for depression and mentions of suicidal ideation!_
> 
>  
> 
> This chapter can also be found on [Tumblr.](http://mistleto-3.tumblr.com/post/168462082179/awakening-part-9)

Tatara carried an immense gateau out of the kitchen and into the bar: four layers of raspberry sponge cake with buttercream and strawberries between each of them, topped with a scarlet mirror glaze, edible roses made from pink and purple icing, and with the inscription: “Happy birthday Anna!” piped in white chocolate across the top. He had been really into baking over the past few weeks, and in preparation for Anna’s birthday party, he’d made her birthday cake, along dozens of red and pink fairy cakes, each one iced with Homra’s insignia in chocolate across the top. Even with all the hungry young men in Homra, people were starting to worry if all of them would get eaten before they went stale.

Or rather, they might have, if Rikio hadn’t been around. As Tatara placed the cake on the bar and puffed out his chest in pride, Rikio’s eyes brightened, and he licked his lips and sat up in his seat. Tatara shot him a weak glower, pulling the cake stand a little closer to himself defensively.

“This is for tomorrow.”

“I know, I know,” Rikio conceded.

“Kamamoto, your body finally became natural,” Izumo observed, as though it was the first he’d noticed of it. Indeed, Rikio was back to his usual hefty self – he’d cut his hair short and his beard was growing back in, and he seemed to have a glow about him now that he had a little more meat back on his bones. It seemed like a symbol that all was once again right with the world.

“Right, Kamamoto staying thin even though summer ended is like opposin’ a divine providence,” Misaki said.

“Ah, I’m sorry for worrying you!” Rikio bowed. “Anna also told me to give it my best, so I can’t stay lanky forever! Now I have a completely natural body!”

“Though I still believe Kamamoto’s metamorphosis to be an opposition to nature’s providence…” Saburouta pointed out.

Rikio’s figure and the question of who was going to eat the mountain of cake Tatara had produced weren’t the predominant concern of the clan, though; indeed, Tatara’s almost obsessive preoccupation with baking was rather conspicuous, seeing as it was the 7th of December. He was clearly trying to distract himself, and the slightly neurotic manner in which he produced batch after batch of meticulously iced cupcakes betrayed the scale of his anxiety.

It was 11:10pm.

“Totsuka,” Mikoto said, and the sound of his name seemed to make Tatara jump. “You’ve got chocolate…” He reached up and dabbed away the small smear of white chocolate icing stuck to the corner of Tatara’s mouth with his thumb, and Tatara gave a weak smile.

“Ya should put that in the fridge for tomorrow,” Izumo said gently, and Mikoto got to his feet and picked up the cake before Tatara had a chance to, worrying Tatara might drop it in his somewhat shaky state. As much as Tatara was smiling and chattering away as much as normal, there was a certain fragility to the way he moved, a weakness, like someone who had been bedridden for a long time and was only just finding their feet. Mikoto worried if Anna’s birthday cake fell on the ground, it would trigger a full-on breakdown. He headed through to the kitchen and set the domed lid over the top of the cake stand before putting it in the fridge, and Tatara shuffled into the room after him.

“We don’t have to go,” Mikoto pointed out.

“No… I want to. I want to be able to give Anna’s birthday the full attention it deserves tomorrow, and I can’t do that with this weighing on my mind.”

Mikoto nodded. “We should go then.”

Tatara nodded wordlessly, and the two of them left the kitchen together, put on their coats, and stepped out into the bitter December air. Tatara still looked a little taken aback when he saw Mikoto react to the cold – he was evidently still getting used to a Mikoto who could feel cold at all. So was Mikoto, to be honest. Even before he’d been chosen by the Slates, the chill had never affected him like this before; it had never made him shiver and pierced down to his bones.

They walked around the side of the bar to the small car park at the rear, and each of them donned a helmet and climbed onto the motorbike chained to a cycle rail. Mikoto unlocked the heavy chain securing it to the rail, dropped it in one of the panniers, then climbed onto the seat in front of Tatara and kicked the engine to life as Tatara wrapped his arms tightly around his waist.

The drive passed in an almost dreamlike way, the sounds of the city obscured by the rush of the wind and roar of the motor as the lights streaked past. It felt like no time at all before they arrived at the Hirasaka building and parked up, but Tatara was slow to get off the bike and remove his helmet. For a moment, he simply stared up at the building and took deep, measured breaths in and out, winding his gloved fingers with Mikoto’s, seemingly steeling himself. And then they started towards the entrance.

They climbed the stairs slowly, and by the time they reached the roof, they were out of breath, and it was 11:34pm. Tatara exited the stairwell with his eyes closed, and he took a moment to steady his breathing before he opened them again, and wordlessly, he scanned the sight. This time, it was just the two of them up here. The skyline looked just as it had that night, the city lights glittering across the horizon like spilled stars and a haze of faint amber light pollution hovering above the horizon in a cloud. Tatara held out the thumbs and forefingers of each hand in a rectangle like a camera shutter.

“I haven’t filmed anything since that night,” was the first thing he said after a long moment of quiet. “I never bought a new camera.”

Mikoto stayed quiet, simply watching him, his hand on Tatara’s waist.

“I thought it would make a good gift for Anna, photos of all the city lights from up here. I ended up making it the worst birthday of her life.”

“You didn’t. It’s not your fault.”

Tatara didn’t say anything for a moment. His trademark carefree smile was completely absent from his face as he scanned the ground. The bloodstain on the concrete had vanished, washed away by a year’s worth of rain.

“…It is,” Tatara said finally, barely above a whisper. Before Mikoto had a chance to refute him, he continued: “She didn’t say when, but… I knew, sometime…”

“Totsuka?” Mikoto’s brow furrowed.

“I’m sorry I never told you before.”

“Told me what?”

Tatara kept his gaze fixed on the city sprawled out in front of them. “The first time I met Anna, she said something to me, and I told her not to tell anybody. I didn’t tell anybody until last year, either. I didn’t want to worry anyone…” He inhaled deeply, then held the air in, and a pregnant silence passed, seemingly until Tatara feared his lungs would burst, and he finally exhaled: “’If you stay by his side, you won’t live very long.’ That’s what she said to me.”

Mikoto didn’t need to ask whose side she had been talking about. He was quiet for a long moment, staring at Tatara in numb disbelief.

“But you stayed,” he finally said, his voice low.

Tatara sniffled quietly. “Yeah…”

“Why?”

“Because I’m selfish.”

Mikoto simply looked at him, waiting for him to elaborate.

“I told myself it was because you needed me, and I couldn’t leave you because if I just disappeared, leaving you wondering what it was you did to push me away, it would kill you. But that wasn’t the whole reason. It was mostly because… I didn’t want to leave you. You’re the love of my life, and I would rather life a short life by your side than a long one alone. I can’t live without you.”

“Stupid,” Mikoto said darkly.

“I know… But I mean it. I always keep up a smile and try to say things will turn out okay, but I wasn’t always that way. Before I met you I was… dying. I didn’t have anything in my life to cling onto that I cared about. I wasn’t interested in anything on more than a surface level, and I didn’t have anyone that I loved, no friends and no family except my foster father, but he was gambling himself into an early grave and I was thinking about whether it would be worth sticking around after he was gone.

“It wasn’t that I was unhappy that we were poor, or that my father was an addict, or that I’d been abandoned by my birth parents, or that my foster mother left us – things happen, but they didn’t make me sad. It was more that… My foster father called it ‘cold-heartedness’ - even though I had lots of hobbies, there was never anything I really wanted to cling to, nothing I ever cared about enough to worry about losing it.”

Mikoto stayed quiet, letting him speak. Tatara had never opened up like this before – they didn’t talk about these things.

“I wasn’t actively planning for a way to die, but I would hear about someone getting killed in a tragic car accident on the news or something and a little voice in the back of my head would think ‘that doesn’t sound so bad.’ There was a time where my catchphrase: ‘don’t sweat it, it’ll all turn out alright,’ meant that it didn’t matter what happened to me, because even if I died, that still would have been alright.”

Mikoto couldn’t remember the last time he cried. But at the words Tatara spoke, he felt the heat of a tear prickling in the corner of his eye, enough to sting but not quite enough to spill over. He blinked it away.

Tatara continued: “And then I met you and Kusanagi and eventually the rest of Homra, and it was like someone turned on a light. I wanted to get out of bed every morning so I could see you. I had a real family. I finally cared about whether or not I lived or died. I had been numb for so long that finally experiencing real happiness was like seeing in colour for the first time…

“And then Anna told me it was only temporary, and I didn’t even have to think about whether I was okay with it. I didn’t want to – _couldn’t_ live without you. It’s dishonest of me to say I would have lived a long life if I’d left; it probably would have been even shorter. Before I knew you, I couldn’t even picture myself getting to age 20. That’s why I like to celebrate birthdays and Christmas and festivals and Valentine’s and the New Year so much; each one is so precious. If my existence on this earth was only fleeting…” he opened his palm and a crimson butterfly rose out of it, fluttering briefly in the bracing air before fading into embers. “Then I wanted to spend it happy, and making other people happy.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“About the prediction or the depression?”

“Both.”

“I didn’t tell you about the depression because I wanted to draw a line under that part of my life. I didn’t want to dwell on the sadness when I’d finally found joy.”

“Is that why you talk about me having it?”

“I see symptoms in you that I used to see in myself. And I never want you to have to feel the way I did.”

“And the prediction?”

“Because I wanted to be selfish… There was no doubt in my mind that if you knew being around you would put me in danger, you’d send me away.”

Mikoto couldn’t argue with that.

“…And then I fell in love with you. I tried so hard not to because it was only going to end in tragedy, but I just couldn’t stop myself…” Tatara’s voice wavered with tears. “I always hated the cliché of star-crossed lovers. I never liked _Romeo and Juliet._ But by the time I realised I was in love with you, it was too late to stop it or ignore it. You’re my soulmate.”

Mikoto sighed. It made sense, what Tatara was saying – logically, if his life would only be short, it might as well be happy. But he couldn’t stop himself from thinking that Tatara’s brush with death was his own fault. He would never get that fear off his mind, that Tatara would die young because of him.

“Why are you telling me now?” Mikoto asked, his voice flat.

“The future isn’t set in stone. Sometimes Anna is wrong.”

“You can’t count on that…”

“I wasn’t finished. This time she _was_ wrong; she told me. Her vision changed after you abdicated. Now she says we’re going to grow old together.”

It took Mikoto a moment to process those words. He never thought very far ahead; it had never even occurred to him to fantasise about a future, not under the weight of the volatile crown he used to wear. But now Tatara had said that, the thoughts of all the possibilities raced around his head at a thousand miles an hour. They really did have time, a whole lifetime of it. They could even get married one day, get a house, raise Anna together, maybe even have other kids… Mikoto had to suppress the thoughts; they were too overwhelming to consider all at once.

“Why didn’t you tell me that?” he said quietly.

“Because telling you that would mean telling you about the first prediction, and how I lied, and it just seemed more trouble than it was worth. I thought you would be angry with me for hiding it.”

“I wish you’d told me,” Mikoto conceded. “But I’m not mad. Just don’t keep secrets from me again.”

“I’m sorry… I couldn’t see another way but to keep it quiet. I felt awful, especially asking Anna to carry that around with her. But if you knew, you’d leave me, and I couldn’t go back to that dark place. If you were in my position, you would have done the same thing.”

Mikoto couldn’t disagree with that – he couldn’t have lived without Tatara any more than Tatara could live without him. When he’d heard Tatara had been shot and they weren’t sure if he was going to make it, he had thought seriously about whether he would want to go on living without him, and the answer was a resounding _no._

“Why now?” Mikoto asked.

“Why am I telling you this now?”

“Mm.”

“Because it’s a year since I nearly died, and… I’m almost grateful it happened. Maybe if I didn’t get shot, you wouldn’t have abdicated, and the prediction wouldn’t have changed, and I would have just died some other time and nothing would be different than how it would have been. I still haven’t really gotten used to the idea that we have a shot at the rest of our lives yet; I’d resigned myself to it all being temporary. But now we have a real chance at a long, happy life together, and I have to be thankful for that.”

In the distance, a bell chimed 45 minutes past the hour, and Tatara closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

“It’s a nice night out,” he said softly, more to himself than anything. “When I was lying on the ground here, I was looking up at the stars and thinking about how beautiful the sky is. If I was going to die, I was grateful to do it looking at the sky.”

Mikoto wound his arm around Tatara’s waist. “You’re alive.”

“When I thought my time was limited, I was grateful for every day, and I thought if I didn’t have that hanging over my head, then I wouldn’t be so grateful. But now time seems even more precious, even if things have been hard lately. I don’t want to waste a single day being sad.”

Mikoto nodded in agreement. “Grow old together, huh?”

“It’s weird to think about, isn’t it?”

“Mm.”

“A good weird though. I get overwhelmed thinking about all the things we could do. We could travel, we could watch Anna grow up, we could get married…” he trailed off, his cheeks flushing a little deeper.

“You want to do that someday?” Mikoto said.

“Get married?”

“Mm.”

“Yeah, I do.”

There was a moment of thoughtful quiet.

“I’d propose, but I don’t have a ring,” Mikoto said light-heartedly, and Tatara giggled.

“I know you aren’t into big gestures like that…”

Mikoto shrugged. “If it made you happy, I’d hire a string band and all that crap.”

Tatara smiled, snuggling up to the warmth of his side and tucking his arm under Mikoto’s coat. “The only thing I want is you.” A few seconds of contented silence passed before Tatara added softly: “I’m sorry for lying to you.”

“I get why you did it,” Mikoto conceded. “I forgive you.”

“Thank you.”

They stood there for a while longer, watching the lights of the city twinkle like the stars scattered above them, feeling the chilly December air play through their hair until the clock chimed again. Midnight.

“Come on, it’s getting late; we need to be up early for Anna’s birthday in the morning,” Tatara said. After last year, he wanted to celebrate properly, make this one special.

Mikoto nodded, and hand in hand, the pair headed back home.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay in updating - I was busy with Mikototsu week, and then busy over Christmas, and then January deadline season was kicking my ass. Updates may continue to be kinda slow because I've definitely bitten off more than I can chew for rarepair week.
> 
> CW especially for anxiety attacks/PTSD in this chapter.
> 
> This chapter can also be found on [Tumblr.](http://mistleto-3.tumblr.com/post/170075827399/awakening-part-10)

It hadn’t been long since Anna’s birthday, but it felt like all of a sudden, the lull after the opposition to Homra reforming had shattered, and it seemed there was some new commotion every few hours. Rumours were that the Blue clan had it worse, but the change of pace had still been somewhat jarring. At the moment, though, there was a brief period of calm, and the Red clansmen had gathered to chill out in the bar as they had done so often before Homra had dissolved. Being busy was kind of nice, though - things almost felt like they were getting back to how they’d been before Homra dissolved.

“Hey, Yata-san… Looks like Anna and Tatara fell asleep,” Rikio pointed out. The two of were curled up together on one of the couches in the bar, with Anna’s head resting on Tatara’s arm.

“Guys, don’t just stand there, put a blanket on the little lady,” Yō interjected, picking one up to drape it over the sleeping pair.

“Yeah, it is getting pretty chilly these days,” Masaomi agreed.

“Chitose… I heard you and Dewa had a scuffle with the Blues last night,” Misaki asked.

Yō rested his arm on his friend’s shoulder, clasping a cigarette between his lips as Masaomi pulled out a lighter to ignite it for him.

“Oh, that was just a run-in with the pretty Lieutenant,” Yō explained.

“I guess they wanted to save face. But they were on our turf so we couldn’t back down. In the end, Kusanagi-san stepped in to bring things under control,” Masaomi added.

“I see.”

“Eric and I also came close to clashing with the Blues,” Kosuke interjected from the other side of the room. “At least it didn’t blow up into something bigger.”

“Those Blues had been on constant alert lately and keep poking around,” Eric said.

“You guys too?!” Misaki cried, exasperated.

Meanwhile, Shouhei turned to Saburouta, leaning over him and resting his hand on his shoulder to peer at the screen of the laptop he appeared to be concentrating intently on. “Hey, San-chan, what’re you up to?”

“Hmm? I’ve been noticing a lot of activity on the net…” Before he could elaborate on what exactly he meant, something appeared to catch Saburouta’s attention, and his brow furrowed. “Hey, what’s this?!”

Shouhei leaned forward, staring at the screen as he made a noise of apparent shock.

“What is it, Shouhei?” Misaki asked.

Whatever it was, it seemed to have him deeply perturbed. “Take a look…” he said, and the rest of the clan gathered around the screen of the laptop, muttering. They fell silent at the sight of the video on the screen, though.

Pixelated text reading “Homra is over” unravelled across the screen, then vanished, replaced by a Homra insignia, once again in a pixelated style, as though it was from some retro games console. It was accompanied by almost eerily cheerful-sounding chiptune music. Over the top, brightly coloured writing reading “the end of Homra” rose from the bottom of the screen, and then the screen turned briefly black once more. Immediately after, a short, video-game style animation played, showing the sprite of Tatara on the roof of a building, being shot by another sprite who was clearly supposed to be the Colourless King. Misaki glanced back over his shoulder at Tatara, who was blessedly still asleep.

“The weakest clansman really was the weakest…” the text appeared across the top of the video, and then the image changed once more to a sprite of Mikoto wearing a crown, approached once more by the Colourless King’s sprite. There was a flash and the Colourless King vanished, and Mikoto’s sprite flickered and got smaller like a character in a game who’d lost a life. The crown was gone from atop his head.

More text reading: “…But the foolish King became even weaker!”

The screen went black again, and large blue lettering reading: “KING HAS FALLEN, HOMRA IS DEAD” appeared, followed by the text: “GAME OVER.” The video finished on that screen.

There was a moment of quiet after the clip ended as the clan collectively seethed, almost too angry to speak.

Rikio was the first to break the silence, pulling out his phone and dialling Izumo. “Someone should go tell Mikoto-san,” he said as the phone rang.

When Izumo picked up, Rikio put him on speaker. “Kusanagi-san, we came across something…”

“Was it the video?” Izumo cut in.

“How did you know?”

“It was just broadcast across the city.”

“It was what?!” Misaki cried.

“Yata-san, you’ll wake…” Rikio started chiding, but as he turned to face the pair napping on the couch, he saw Tatara was already sitting up, and Anna’s eyes were open.

“Why does everyone have such serious expressions?” Tatara asked, still drowsy.

“Come see…” Rikio said gravely, and the two of them got to their feet and headed over to the screen of the laptop that Rikio was gesturing at. Saburouta hit play once more.

“I’m on my way back now, get Bandou on trying to track where the signal is being broadcast from,” Izumo said.

“On it,” Saburouta replied, waiting for Anna and Tatara to finish watching the video.

“Don’t do anything until I get back; we need to work out how to respond to this.”

The video’s end screen flashed up on the monitor as the clip finished its second playthrough, and Tatara sighed lightly, as though it was nothing more than a minor annoyance. “It seems like they’re just trying to get under our skin, like they want to provoke us. I agree, we should figure out how to deal with this in a measured way, otherwise we’re just playing into their hands. Does Mikoto know?”

As if on cue, the door that led upstairs to the apartment above the bar opened, and Mikoto stepped through. “Know what?” His hair was somewhat fluffy, like it’d just been blow dried, and it hadn’t yet been styled.

“Have you seen the video?” Tatara asked.

“It came on the TV.” There was a tension in his posture that betrayed his irritation with the situation.

Misaki, who appeared to have been stewing in his anger, finally reached bursting point and blurted: “We can’t just let them walk all over us! People have tried to make us mad before, and we’ve shown them that it’s a mistake, because when we get mad it ends badly for them, not for us!”

“It could be a trap,” Rikio pointed out.

“Our actions are up to Anna,” Tatara said gently.

She nodded, having remained in pensive silence since the video ended. “They want to provoke us, and we shouldn’t do what they want. We’ll pay them back for their disrespect, but we should wait for Izumo and decide what to do. We shouldn’t play into their hands.”

“I have the location,” Saburouta cut in. “It was really easy to find.”

“Isn’t that a bad sign? Do you think they’re trying to lure us into a trap?” Kosuke asked.

“It could be,” Akagi replied.

At that moment, Izumo opened the door, looking slightly harried, obviously having rushed to get there. “What’s the situation?”

“We’ve located the source of the feed, but it was suspiciously easy,” Tatara said.

“Depending on who it’s comin’ from, it’s either a trap or they’re just sloppy. My instinct’s the former,” Izumo said. “I doubt it’s from any o’ the smaller scale resistance we got when we first started reforming. They don’t have the resources for this kinda thing, and they’ve quietened down since we taught ‘em a lesson.”

“Who else could it be?” Eric asked.

“Jungle, maybe. Sceptre 4’s Lieutenant says they’ve been having issues with the Greens. If it’s them, it’s almost certainly a trap.”

“Well, it’s the only lead we have…” Tatara pointed out.

“Anna, what do you want to do?” Izumo asked.

“We can’t ignore the lead. We should send a scout ahead,” she said, looking at Misaki. “But the rest of us shouldn’t be far behind, so we have the manpower to fight if it is a trap. Show them we’re too strong to be messed with, and if they provoke us, it will only end up burning them.”

“I can do that,” Misaki replied enthusiastically.

Anna nodded her consent, and he rushed to grab his skateboard as Saburouta sent him the address, and then she glanced up at Mikoto, as though to ask if he approved of her actions. He gave her a small nod of endorsement, and the clan prepared to leave.

As they headed through the doors of the bar, Mikoto said quietly to Anna: “Ya don’t need my approval for everything. You’re your own King. Even if you do things differently, maybe that’s better.”

“Okay.”

“…You’re doin’ a good job,” he added.

Anna smiled faintly. “Thank you.” She paused, then added. “You aren’t weak.”

He lay his hand on her shoulder affectionately, and what could have been the ghost of a smile flickered over his lips.

* * *

 

When the clan arrived at the location, it seemed Saruhiko had also been sent ahead of Sceptre 4, and predictably, he and Misaki were already locked in a heated scuffle.

“Yata, that’s enough!” Izumo called as they entered the building, and at almost the same time, Seri’s voice rang from the opposite side of the foyer as Sceptre 4’s special forces squad arrived.

“Fushimi! Stand down!”

The two disengaged with discontented grumbles, and re-joined their respective clans. As they did so, Tatara noticed Mikoto looking around out of the corner of his eye.

“What?”

“We’ve been here before. While you were in hospital,” he explained.

“My my, you all seem quite upset, aren’t you, Homra?” Reisi said from the other side of the room, adjusting his glasses.

“Damn right!” Misaki shouted. “Mikoto-san and Totsuka-san were slandered. We’ll make ‘em pay!”

“Kusanagi Izumo, we want you to back down,” Seri said. “We will deal with the Green Clan.”

“Sorry, Lieutenant Awashima, but Yata’s right. Those idiots have to find out the hard way that messing with any of us means getting burned. And I mean literally,” he replied, pulling his lighter out of his pocket and toying with it between his fingers. “That’s the only way Homra will be satisfied.”

“If you put it that way, we’ve been taken for fools too,” Reisi reasoned. “This choice of place is no coincidence, don’t you think?”

Mikoto chuckled humourlessly.

Suddenly, Anna tensed. “They’re here!”

Reisi rested a hand on the hilt of his sword. “Don’t watch from behind the lines; show yourself.”

As he spoke dozens of figures stepped forward, looming from the balconies higher in the building – the upper floors were teeming with men in black and green masks, who seemed to outnumber Homra and Sceptre 4 put together 4 to 1. Most of them held PDAs in their hands.

“The bait was so obvious, and you took it!” an electronic-sounding voice called down to them.

The ambush began muttering excitedly amongst themselves, something about points, and the names of Red and Blue clansmen drifted down to them. The two clans in the foyer prickled with mistrust, anticipating a fight.

Another distorted voice broke through the mumbling with a gleeful shout: "So anyway, we have nothing against you guys, but it's all for the points! So die for us, will ya?"

The masked men were laughing, almost jubilant, as they pulled what looked like green parrot plushies from their pockets. It was eerie how eager they seemed to try to kill dozens of complete strangers, all for the sake of points on some phone game? The realisation of just how twisted Jungle's philosophy was settled uneasily over the two clans in the foyer as the Greens threw the parrot toys down onto them. As they hit the ground, they swelled as though they were about to burst, but before any harm could be done, the Blue aura swept outwards to envelop the members of both clans, knocking the toys away and forming a protective cocoon around the clansmen. Dozens of ear-splitting _bangs_ echoed through the room as the toys exploded, seeming to shake the very air in the building, and clouds of thick, grey smoke obscured everything outside of the protective bubble of the Blue aura.

The smoke cleared with a rush of air, and the Greens looked down in shock to see the two groups of clansmen standing unharmed.

"What's going on?"

"Why aren't they dead?!"

"Such a vile and disgusting sedition," Reisi said gravely. "Our lock-up is not what you would call comfortable. I hope you're prepared."

"I can vouch for that," Mikoto added.

"You said Homra is dead? Don't you know? We have a new King. A strong King who rivals Mikoto," Izumo announced as Anna stepped forward, holding her head high.

"You disrespected and laughed at my family." As she spoke, her aura blazed around her, filling the room with crimson light. Her Sword of Damocles rose into the sky above the glass roof of the building, just as Mikoto's had all that time ago. "I won't forgive you."

The sight of her gave Tatara chills.

"Shall we begin then? For our cause is pure!" Reisi announced, and behind him, Seri cried out:

"Men, draw your swords!"

As each of the Blue clansmen raised their blades with a flourish and their aura sparked upwards from their feet, Izumo said: "Time for us too."

"Don't let those Blues get all the credit!" Misaki cried.

The rest of Homra didn't need telling twice. As the Red aura swirling around them burned hotter still, they raised their fists and stomped their feet against the tiles.

"No blood! No bone! No ash! No blood! No bone! No ash!" The chorus of shouts echoed preternaturally through the building.

Mikoto normally didn't take part in the chant as King, but Tatara noticed this time, he was joining in - he didn't stamp and punch the air like the others, but he murmured the words along with them. Something about the gesture was heartening.

"Do not let the Red clan outshine us!" Seri cried, directing her men forwards. The sound shook Tatara from his thoughts.

"Leave this to me!" Misaki shouted, running forwards to initiate the counterattack.

Meanwhile, the Greens had recovered from their initial shock and were preparing their plan B, pulling sub-machine guns from their backpacks and taking aim at the clans below.

Tatara had just enough time to freeze up at the sight of the weapons before the deafening chatter of gunfire began. After a second, he felt Mikoto’s arms wrap around him, pulling him in tightly against his chest, but the sensation was hazy, like Tatara had been out in the cold and his skin was beginning to go numb. He _felt_ cold; the terror that the sound, so loud and so close, instilled in him was like ice water dumped over him, seeping into his veins. His legs crumpled beneath him, until Mikoto’s strength was all that was keeping him from slumping onto the floor. He was vaguely aware of an aura surrounding the two of them, but not whose or even what colour, and its presence brought him no comfort. The scar on his ribcage ached, and the fear was suffocating him, and he was hyperventilating and felt like he couldn’t breathe all at the same time. He was more afraid than he’d been that night on the rooftop when he thought he was dying, because then he’d been resigned to it, but now…

_I don’t want to die I don’t want to leave them there’s so much I still want to do I don’t want to die I don’t want to die I don’t want to die_

The panicked, half-coherent thoughts were almost drowned out by the gunfire.

Tatara only barely registered the fact that he was suddenly outside, evidently having been ushered out of the building by Mikoto. He was only alerted to the change of scenery by the way the wind made the tears on his cheeks feel cold.

“You’re safe. You’re safe,” he vaguely heard Mikoto reassuring him, but it didn’t quite register beneath the clatter of the bullets that Tatara barely even noticed subsiding as, one by one, the Greens abandoned their mission as a lost cause, spooked by the way the auras of the other clans rendered their weapons ineffective. It wasn’t until the echo of the shots ringing in his ears finally subsided completely that Tatara really understood what was being said to him.

“Breathe,” Mikoto said.

It took a while, but Tatara slowly forced his aching lungs to inhale and exhale in time with Mikoto.

“I’m… s-sorry…” was the first thing he managed to say.

“It’s okay.”

“I e-embarrassed… Anna…” Tatara’s voice hitched on his tears every other syllable. “They th-think Homra’s weak… I proved them r-right…”

“They’re running scared in there. They don’t think Homra’s weak.”

Tatara sniffled, wiping his eyes on his sleeve. His hands trembled as he did so.

“Do you want me to stop carrying a gun?” Mikoto asked softly.

“I can’t ask you to…”

“Yes you can.”

Reluctantly, Tatara nodded.

“I f-feel… stupid…”

“It’s not your fault.” As Mikoto spoke, he rubbed Tatara’s arm comfortingly. Somehow, the tenderness of his voice and his touch was helping to soothe Tatara’s racing heartbeat now that the gunfire had ceased. There was something about the way someone normally so gruff and frightening as Mikoto handled him with such gentleness that was deeply comforting. Still, Tatara didn’t know if he quite believed what Mikoto said about him not embarrassing his clan. He was embarrassed with himself, at least – it was rare the rest of Homra ever saw him upset. He was so careful to keep up appearances as a cheerful and carefree person, but it seemed like he’d broken down in front of everyone more times in the last few weeks than he had in all the years since the clan formed put together. It was endlessly frustrating, and Tatara didn’t know why he was struggling so much to keep it all in.

After a moment, the door opened and Izumo emerged.

“Totsuka, you okay?” To Tatara’s relief, Izumo only sounded concerned – there was no disappointment or anger in his voice.

Tatara managed a shaky nod.

“How did it go?” Mikoto asked.

“They turned tail ‘n’ ran as soon as they realised their weapons didn’t work against auras, didn’t even get a chance to fight ‘em. They disappeared with their tails between their legs before we could even get up to the higher floors of the building. Couple o’ the clansmen are giving chase to see if we can catch any of ‘em and interrogate them, and I think the Blues managed to round up a handful.” As Izumo spoke, he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to Tatara. “No one blames you, ya know. I figure I’d’a reacted the same if I’d been through what you had.”

Tatara nodded slowly, wiping his eyes and blowing his nose. Somehow, hearing the confirmation come from someone other than Mikoto was more reassuring – after all, Mikoto was biased.

“Mikoto, there’s somethin’ else you should know,” Izumo continued.

“What?”

Izumo gestured upwards at the two Swords of Damocles circling above the building, and the debris slowly crumbling away from Reisi’s. Mikoto’s brow furrowed.

“I figure you should talk to him about that,” Izumo said.

Mikoto grunted in agreement, a troubled look on his face as he watched the dust float down from the cracks in the blue Sword.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for the continued slow updates. My mental health hasn't been great over the past 6 weeks or so and it's been pretty difficult to do any writing. I can't promise faster updates from now on, it's just a matter of seeing how my motivation levels are. Thank you to everyone who comments on these fics, your support and patience has been invaluable.  
> For more updates, I suggest you follow my writing blog [mistleto-3](http://mistleto-3.tumblr.com) on tumblr.
> 
> This chapter can also be found on [Tumblr.](http://mistleto-3.tumblr.com/post/171962175184/awakening-part-11)

Later that day, Tatara had perked up somewhat after his panic attack once Anna had reassured him that she understood and didn’t feel let down by the way he’d reacted, though the hot mug of tea that Rikio had pressed into his palms and hovered around him until he’d finished drinking it had also helped. Once Tatara felt a bit more stable, Mikoto and Tatara headed out once more, and shortly after found themselves outside the front gates of Sceptre 4’s headquarters just as another guest was leaving.

“Yatogami-san, are you well?” Tatara asked.

Kuroh was kneeling just outside the gate, petting a black cat, and he looked up at the sound of his name. “I’m okay thank you. Yourselves?” he asked, fidgeting slightly. It seemed he still wasn’t quite sure what to make of the old Red King after the turbulence of their first meeting a year ago.

“Okay, thanks,” Tatara replied, kneeling down to scratch the cat under the chin, but before any more pleasantries could be exchanged, a deep voice from inside the courtyard caught their attention.

“Kuroh!”

Kuroh’s head snapped around at the voice. “Yes?”

The speaker, a tall man wearing Sceptre 4’s uniform and red glasses with an ageing scar across the bridge of his nose, seemed abashed at the mistake. His left arm appeared to be missing.

“Oh, sorry, I was calling at the cat…”

“Ah, Kuroh as in ‘black cat’,” Kuroh said, picking up the creature and handing it to the Blue clansman, and then bowing and taking his leave.

It was then that the tall man acknowledged the other two men present. “Am I correct in assuming you are Suoh Mikoto and Totsuka Tatara?”

“Yes. I’m sorry, I’m not familiar with your name,” Tatara replied.

“Zenjou Gouki. I work in the documents office.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“Do you have business here?”

Before Tatara could respond, Seri called from behind: “Zenjou-san… Oh, apologies, I didn’t see you there,” she said, acknowledging the visitors. “Do you have an appointment?”

“No. We came to speak to Munakata,” Mikoto said.

“He left not long ago to visit Mihashira Tower… Did you by any chance come to speak to him about his Sword of Damocles?” Seri asked.

“Yeah,” Mikoto said.

“…I’m worried,” she admitted. “It’s worth you trying to talk some sense into him. He only left a few minutes ago; you should be able to catch up to him.”

“Okay. Thank you,” Tatara said, bowing politely before he and Mikoto turned back to follow Reisi, leaving Seri and Gouki talking in a quiet, serious tone among themselves.

An odd sensation of cold nostalgia fell over Tatara as they stood in the shadow of Mihashira Tower – he wasn’t quite sure how he felt about being back here. It was a place that held a lot of mixed memories, but he supposed if he could go back to the Hirasaka building, then this place wasn’t so bad. Still, he distracted himself reading his messages as the pair ascended in the elevator.

“Kusanagi-san says that Neko is at Homra with Anna right now. Apparently Neko asked if Anna would be okay, and that Yatogami-san mentioned something about the Red power being dangerous, but Anna told the story of one time she was with me as I came to calm you down after a fight. It was before we got together, I think, and you said something like ‘destruction is destruction, there is no meaning,’ and I said something like ‘power is a monster, but if you have something nearby you to protect, then it can become your friend.’ I think she’s taken that to heart, you know.” Tatara paused. “I feel like, even if we can’t be fighters, we’ve protected her, and now we’ve become one of the things she wants to protect. I guess that makes me feel better about earlier. She said the pretty red is her friend, because she has everyone at Homra she wants to protect.”

A flicker of a smile twitched the corner of Mikoto’s lips. As gruff as his exterior was, if you were adept at reading him, it was easy to tell he was proud of Anna.

“And apparently Misaki made this big speech about how he wants to be someone Anna can rely on, too. Anna offered Neko a safe place to stay at Homra, but she declined. I’m glad Anna has a friend who’s a girl and around her own age – there’s a bit of a gap, but it’s closer than she’s had before. Makes a nice change from a group of miscreant young men…” It was at that point Tatara realised he was babbling.

“You nervous?” Mikoto raised an eyebrow.

“I dunno how I feel about being here. I imagine it’s weirder for you than it is for me.”

Mikoto merely shrugged. “More concerned about Munakata doing something stupid.”

The gentle ping of a bell announced that they’d arrived at the top floor, and the pair stepped out of the elevator and towards the Slates’ chamber. When the doors slid open, Reisi was standing in the centre of the room with his hands folded neatly behind their back, as though expecting their arrival.

“Suoh, Totsuka, this is an unusual place to find the two of you.”

“We came looking for you,” Mikoto said.

“Is there something I can help you with?”

“Your Sword’s cracking.” Mikoto’s reply was blunt.

“Surely you have not come to lecture me? That certainly would be a turn of the tables.”

“We consider you our friend. We’re worried about you – we just want to know what’s causing all this,” Tatara said gently. “Your clan is worrying too.”

“My personal affairs do not concern you.”

“With all due respect, if your Weissman level is failing just as all this trouble is starting to kick up, it could affect our clan, so in this case it does concern us.” When Reisi didn’t reply, Tatara hazarded: “You seem stressed. And you come here a lot – you’re worried about the extra burden of protecting the Slates, aren’t you?”

Reisi maintained his cool demeanour, but Tatara noticed him shift his weight slightly, as though he was uncomfortable with how near to the mark Tatara had gotten just from reading his expression.

“Ya say I can’t lecture you, but seein’ as I’ve been there and I know how much it sucks, I can tell ya sometimes I wish I’d’a listened to you all that time,” Mikoto said.

“I never thought you would admit to that.”

“Feels a bit shit when your 12 year old kid has more power than you,” Mikoto said lightly.

“I know this must all be overwhelming, all the responsibility of the extra trouble, and taking care of the Slates, but remember nobody expects you to be able to deal with this perfectly, or to become the Gold King – he had more resources and more manpower and his fingers in a lot more pies than you, so just because your best might not be the same as his, it’s not a fair contest so there’s no worth in comparing yourself to him,” Tatara said confidently.

“Ya’d do well to follow your own advice, rather than follow in my footsteps. Reckless doesn’t suit you.”

Reisi’s brows twitched, seeming somewhat vexed at being ganged up on. “I am cognisant of my own ability, but regardless of my mindfulness and delegation and prioritising, there are simply not enough hours in the day. It is normal under this high-stress scenario for one to show a small amount of strain, and it is not worth becoming concerned over. I assure you you have no cause for concern, and your meddling is unnecessary.”

“We ain’t judging. I’m not exactly in a position to,” Mikoto reminded.

“Sometimes delegating isn’t enough. Sometimes you need to ask for help, or accept it when it’s offered, so if there’s anything you need…” Tatara began.

“The Red Clan has nothing of use to offer to me.” Reisi interrupted.

“Well, if that changes, you know where to find us. I always say power is meant to protect, and sometimes the best way to protect is to know when it isn’t possible to go it alone,” Tatara said.

“Or to know when to say when,” Mikoto added.

“No offence intended, but the two of you do not have any experience in the kind of work I am undertaking, and you are oversimplifying and underestimating the situation. Besides, I already have help; the Gold Rabbits are currently working under my command in this area to help safeguard the Slates until such time the Gold King is able to return to his duties.”

“I know what it’s like to have my Sword fall apart. I know you would’a killed me last year if you needed to. That’s gotta be a burden.”

“It is somewhat late to be considering that. Whilst I appreciate your concern, your intervention is not necessary. I have the situation in control.”

“Well, if you need to let off steam, come for a drink or something. You know where to find us,” Tatara offered.

Reisi merely bowed respectfully, and the other two took that as their signal to leave. As they stepped back into the elevator, Tatara let out a sigh.

“Well that could have gone better.”

“Didn’t expect much else from him,” Mikoto shrugged.

“Well, at least he knows people are onto him now, and he can’t keep pretending things are fine. And the offer of help is open should he choose to take it. That’s all we can do.”

“Mm,” Mikoto agreed, sliding his hand into Tatara’s back pocket as he did so, but he still seemed somewhat unsettled. Their friend’s irritation at their intervention seemed to have hit a nerve, and there seemed to be more cause for concern about Reisi than they’d first anticipated.


End file.
